Buffybot in Tabula Rasa
by keswindhover
Summary: Buffybot has been repaired - and now she is meeting the Scoobies while their memories are impaired.
1. Default Chapter

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Buffybot in Tabula Rasa

PAIRING: None

RATING: PG

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FEEDBACK: Very welcome, to keswindhover@yahoo.co.uk

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BETA: Miss Murchison - thanks!

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SETTING: This fic is set during the events of 'Tabula Rasa' in BtVS Series 6, when the Scoobies temporarily lose their memories. I've twiddled with the time sequence in the episode a tiny bit, but just call it artistic licence.

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DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to Joss. I'm borrowing, and I promise to put them all back in reasonably good condition, and only slightly used.

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NOTE: This story is a sequel to 'Buffybot Behind Bars!', which appears elsewhere on my page, but it can perfectly well be read as a stand-alone.

This story is now complete, in 17 chapters ...

Scene: A house in Sunnydale

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Chapter One

Buffybot blinked, puzzled. Her internal clock said it was 5.30 pm - so why was it dark? And why was she lying down? She blinked some more, and stared up at the ceiling above her, rolled her eyes from side to side, then ran a diagnostic. 

How strange. Her operating system was on, but all her biomechanics were disengaged. She 'tsked' to herself - well, that was just silly. If her arms and legs were switched off, how could she fight, and slay? How could she save the brave people of Sunnydale from Evil? There was no point having a swishy shiny sword, and a wicked cool crossbow if she was stuck on her back, having to be trundled about the cemeteries of Sunnydale on a stretcher.

She engaged her emergency backup self-repair function. Her right hand twitched uncertainly into action, moved to the back of her neck in slow uneven jerks, fumbled stiffly at the panel on the back of her neck, and finally depressed the relevant switch. Buffybot watched in satisfaction as the reams of biofeedback data scrolled across her visual field - except, wait! Where had her left leg gone? She stared down at her feet - foot. There was only one foot there. She considered the implications. Perhaps Willow had carried her leg off for repair and maintenance somewhere? But if Willow had done that, why didn't she remember it? 

She quickly reviewed the events of the past month. Oooh! She'd sustained major structural damage from some wicked bad demons, and then ... she faltered. She didn't remember what had happened then. She flexed her hands experimentally. Her arms were working fine, and there were no nasty dents or dings, so clearly someone had been fixing her up. But perhaps they couldn't find my leg, she thought. Or maybe it got run over by a motorbike or something. Poor leg.

At that moment the door opened. And a figure stepped through.

"Hi there!" said Buffybot.

There was a scream, and clatter of metal and plastic. Buffybot tilted her head down so she could see the person. Strange, nothing was there. She tilted her head down a little more - oh there! It was a little person. Pressed up against the door with his hand on his chest. She quickly scanned her database. Jonathan Levinson, Sunnydale native, Sunnydale High School alumnus, nerd, suicide risk and fantasist. Buffybot frowned - he _did _seem very nervous. 

The little person was panting, rapidly, and covered in nervous sweat. Oh no! Perhaps he had taken a lethal dose of pills? If so, it was clearly her duty to get over there and induce vomiting. She lurched unsteadily to her one foot. Jonathan screamed again, and turned to scrabble at the door.

Buffybot hopped across to him - hey, hopping was easy! Who knew? - and laid a kindly hand on his shoulder.

"Can I be of assistance, unstable little Sunnydale native called Jonathan?" she said, in what she hoped was a soothing voice.

"Don't kill me!" said Jonathan frantically. "It wasn't me, I didn't do it. It was someone else, someone bigger - yes, someone bigger. Look at me - I'm tiny! Couldn't have been me."

But Buffybot had been distracted by what Jonathan had dropped on the floor.

"Ooh!" she said excitedly. "It's my leg." She tilted her head and looked at it again. "Except ..."

"It's another right leg, I know," said Jonathan, relaxing marginally as the threat of immediate robotic violence began to fade. "Warren had back-up parts for pretty much everything." He fumbled in his pocket and produced a Buffy right hand and waved it vaguely. "But there was only a right leg in the spares kit - and unfortunately it's your left leg that I couldn't find."

Buffybot stared at the leg, her head on one side. She could install it with the foot facing backwards - but then her knee would be facing backwards too - and that was bound to lead to confusion - not to mention a tendency to do the splits when running. Still, first things first. She needed Willow. She fixed Jonathan with a dazzling smile, causing him to squeak, and take a step backward.

"Where's Willow?" she said, "I need servicing."

"Ah," said Jonathan. "Um ... how come you're awake?" he burst out suddenly, "I thought you were switched off? I swear I checked ..."

"I switched myself on," said Buffybot proudly, "using my emergency backup self repair function." She tapped her shiny blonde head. "Willow installed it after I had a teeny bit of trouble in Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary a while ago."

Jonathan blinked.

Buffybot smiled at him, "I knew it would come in useful! It has its own teeny tiny cute little mobile phone battery - isn't that neat? Willow is _so _smart! She'll work out what to do about my leg in no time." Buffybot peered past Jonathan at the door. "Where is she?"

Jonathan moved sharply between Buffybot and the door, looking shifty. "She's gone away," he said. "Big emergency - in England. Everyone's gone away. Well, everyone you know. Willow, Tara, Buffy, Dawn, Giles, Xander, Anya, Spike ... all out of the country on a major Saving-The-World mission." He looked at her sideways, "So I'm in charge of you now," he said rather tentatively. 

"Oh dear!" Buffybot's mouth made a big 'o' of shock. "Well, gee, I guess it's down to us to keep the streets of Sunnydale safe for decent people!" She squared her shoulders. It was a tough job, but she was the Bot to do it - and she was sure her new little friend would help. She regarded her leg again. She had an idea.

... ... ....

"So," said Jonathan, as he applied the weld, "When Willow and everyone realised they had to leave straightaway to battle the Vindaloo Monster in Oxford, they left me to finish getting you repaired, and to co-ordinate the, um, the fight against Bad Stuff." He looked at Buffybot nervously, trying to tell if she was swallowing his story. "So I'm in charge, right? I mean you are my robot slave - right? And if I were to tell you to - oh, say, switch yourself off again for a while, so I can ... make you even faster and stronger than you already are. You'd obey me?"

Buffybot patted him on the head. "I'm not a slave - I'm an American," she explained kindly. "Slavery was abolished in 1865. _And _I have an inalienable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness! Mr Jefferson said so! And what makes me happiest of all is Slaying evil creatures."

__

I hunt and I slay! 

Hip hip hip hurray!" 

Buffybot sang the last part to a merry little tune she had made up her very own self.

Jonathan looked away; the chance to switch her off must come his way at some point ... and then it was back to the drawing board. Programming couldn't be all that hard, surely, if morons like Andrew could do it?"

"I see you've been learning history," he said.

"Yes!" said Buffybot proudly. "Tara showed me how to download things from the internet. I've got the complete Grolier's Encyclopaedia in a handy little sub-directory - with graphics! I know loads of things. Ask me a question! Go on - I bet I know the answer." She waited eagerly for Jonathan to try and boggle her with an obscure reference to the Star Wars Trilogy, or Red Dwarf. Luckily she had "The Complete Nerd's Guide to all Science Fiction Ever Screened or Published, Ever" (Subtitle: "Even in Weird Places like Russia Where They don't Speak English"), safely on her hard-drive, as well as the Grolier.

But apparently Jonathan didn't want to play. Perhaps he was worried about the heavy responsibility that lay upon his small but well formed shoulders? Buffybot nodded to herself. She must remember to try and keep his spirits up. Clearly he was prone to Despair and needed careful handling. She wrinkled her perfect brow, trying to think of some devices to raise his morale. Campfire songs perhaps? Or some kind of music hall show, where he could dress up in drag without aspersions being cast on his masculinity? 

Meanwhile, it seemed her leg was done. She regarded it with a satisfied smile. Good thing she had that _Practical Robotics_ textbook in her database! Extracting and reversing the ball and socket at the top of the leg and re-wiring all the circuits crosswise had been challenging, but perfectly do-able. She stomped the leg on the floor experimentally. There! Perfectly sound. Of course, it was little inconvenient having two right feet - she was going to need two right shoes for a start - and they wouldn't match, which was a pity. Buffybot faltered for a moment, imagining the shame of going out with uncoordinated footwear. But still, in the fight against Evil, Sacrifices had to be made. And if that meant she had to wear her Manolo Blahnicks with her Gucci tasselled loafers, so be it!

"Right," she said brightly, patting Jonathan's shoulder in a supportive fashion. "Let's go and get some lethal weapons, and make sure the streets are safe for decent people to walk!" She walked resolutely to the door. There! She was absolutely fine.

Jonathan stared after the Buffybot despairingly as she lurched towards the door, seemingly swaying in the breeze with every step. How on earth could he stop her before she ran into the Scooby Gang, and his Evil Plot was revealed? Bullets? Bazookas? It was a pity he had neither a gun nor a rocket launcher to hand. Instead, with a particularly vulgar Klingon curse, he grabbed his jacket and ran after her, out of his parents' house and into the Sunnydale suburbs. Buffybot was making great progress, lurching rapidly along the sidewalk, exchanging cheery greetings with his parents' neighbours as she went. Jonathan panted after her, cursing the day he had imagined that a Buffybot of his own would be a really, really cool idea.


	2. Chapter 2

Buffybot accelerated down the road - she was really getting into her stride now! Her visual field seemed to be swaying a bit more than usual, but it was easy to compensate. She scanned the streets of Sunnydale eagerly, looking for signs of evildoing and criminality. But the scene was picture perfect - the sun was all shiny, and the sky was bright blue. There were birds cheeping in the trees, and not single dismembered person in sight. 

"It's four of the clock, and all's well!" she carolled happily, lustily ringing an imaginary bell, and adjusting her imaginary Town Crier's robes. Tara had pointed her at the Bartleby.com website, where thousands of novels were available for free. Buffybot had speed-read all the way to 'R' before her demon-related accident. Historical fiction was great!

Jonathan stumbled behind her, a stitch in his side. Thank heavens this was suburbia - there was almost no one in sight to witness the Buffybot's Frankenstein lurching, mystery gibberings, and strange involuntary hand movements, and the few people out clipping their hedges, or parking their cars, were studiously affecting not to notice her. 

Oh no! Buffybot had reached Revello Drive. A horrible, terrible fate awaited him as soon as she found Willow, opened her pretty treacherous mouth, and Told All. Should he run? Should he hide? Or should he try and bluff his way through? Tell them all he had fixed up the Bot as his part in the fight against evil? He sagged against a mail box, his chest on fire. He was sure he was developing hypertension....

Buffybot reached the front door of the Summers house - deserted of course. She tried the doorknob nonetheless - and it was open. She frowned. How strange! Surely Buffy wouldn't go to England and leave her door unlocked? Buffybot switched her senses to high alert. She stepped away from the door, and picked up a handy flowerpot, then crept stealthily back, and pushed the door ajar, ready for a savage demon attack. Nothing happened. She straightened, puzzled. Of course she knew that Buffy _did_ leave her door unlocked a lot. Giles was always going on about it. She straightened, and stepped purposefully inside, prepared for anything. 

And frowned again. There was a fire nearly out in the fireplace. A charred branch had fallen out into the hearth and sat there in a little pile of ash. Buffybot tsked. There could have been a nasty accident - whoever was living in Buffy's house while she was away sure was careless! She crossed to the fireplace, picked up the little dustpan and brush, swept the ash up neatly, and tipped it back into the fire, where it flared feebly for a moment, and then dissolved. 

Buffybot moved on into the kitchen - there were dishes in the sink! Lots of dishes. She very nearly pulled on her rubber gloves right then and there and got to work - she was great at washing dirty dishes! And making sandwiches! 

But no, she said sternly to herself - duty before pleasure. I should check things out, and find out who these messy, careless people are. She headed for the stairs. It was rather harder climbing them than she remembered - perhaps there was some fine tuning needed on her new leg after all - but once she was on the landing, it was all easy. Feeling a strange little frisson, she turned the door knob to her room - Buffy's room now of course. She looked around her. There, where a Jennifer Crusie novel lay, was where she used to keep her jump leads, and there, in the little dresser now covered in a confused tangle of lacy shirts, she had kept her spare eyeballs, and eighteen-piece right angled set of wrenches (handy for those hard to get to places!). She wondered where all her things were now.

Jonathan lurked under a tree, standing in a scuffed patch littered with cigarette ends. He just couldn't decide whether to run, and experience the gut wrenching terror of pursuit by an angry Slayer, or stay, and possibly disgrace himself in the Summers kitchen. He moaned. The suspense was killing him.

Buffybot made her careful way down the stairs, sword and crossbow in hand. That crisis in England must have been Super Urgent - Buffy had left her lip gloss, and Dawn _had left her hair conditioner._ Gosh - things must be serious!

Night had fallen while Buffybot searched through the house, but as she came out in to the garden, her night vision detected a dark figure lurking under a nearby tree. She brightened. Lurking! She quickly scanned her 'Sunnnydale Denizens Behavior Fact File', and nodded, satisfied. Lurking was typical behaviour of evil creatures of the night. She gripped her sword firmly, crept up to the tree, and kicked the figure there with her left-right foot.

"Die, evil creature of the night!" she yelled, flashing the sword downward.

Jonathan woke from his uneasy doze to see an onrushing sword filling his field of vision.

"Aargh!" He scrambled desperately backward, hitting his head on the tree trunk, and then gazed, bulging-eyed at the sword tip resting on the button-down pocket of his favourite brown check shirt.

Buffybot tilted her head. "Hello again, funny Jonathan!" she said. "Why are you lurking in typical-evil-denizen-of-Sunnydale fashion behind this tree? You're lucky I'm all super reflexive and stuff, or I might have accidentally skewered you to this tree trunk!" 

Jonathan lay trembling on the ground. Bitter thoughts of Warren and Willow filled his mind. Had they never read Isaac Asimov? Did they not know the three basic laws of Robotics, and most particularly the first and second laws? _(First:'A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm', second: 'A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.')_ And yet here was the Buffybot, taking _years_ off his life, and laughing when he said she was his slave bot! I am giving up evil, he swore to himself. Forever. Right now. He shuffled awkwardly backwards on his bottom, getting his chest away from the uncomfortable prick of the sword point.

"I was napping," he said, "not lurking."

Buffybot stared down at him. Humans did nap a lot, she knew. Hours and hours sometimes. But really - and she didn't like to criticize or anything, but still - she felt Jonathan was being a bit lax, napping while the streets went unpatrolled and evil roamed unchecked. Clearly she needed to motivate him a little more. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a handy little throwing axe. 

"You can borrow this," she said kindly. "It's really good for dismembering things!"

Jonathan scrambled to his feet, and then staggered, as Buffybot slapped the axe heartily against his chest. He grasped it reflexively, and with a little satisfied nod, Buffybot turned and began lurching down the street. 

Jonathan stared at her back longingly, the axe twitching in his hand. Buffy and her gang must be out at the moment, so his scheme was still undiscovered. He could try hacking the Bot down in some quiet cemetery somewhere, and rendering her into spare parts again..... He looked at the axe in his hand, and shook his head - odds were it would hardly dent her. Instead, he dragged himself wearily down the street in her wake, cursing the day that he and Warren had seen _Weird Science_ on cable.

Buffybot motored down the high street, heading for the Sunny Fields Eternal Rest Memorial Garden - that was always buzzing on a weekday! But as she neared the intersection, a distant scream, seemingly ripped from a dozen throats, sang through the air. She broke into a run.

As Buffybot rounded the corner, she stiffened like a gun dog spotting a pheasant. Vampires! A whole bunch of vampires, standing around the broken window of the Magic Box, and Clearly Up To No Good. Well! thought Buffybot indignantly, as soon as poor Giles and Anya have to rush off to combat the Fearsome Oxford Vindaloo Monster, there are blood sucking fiends _trespassing and vandalising!_ She put on an extra burst of speed, drawing her sword as she ran. 


	3. Chapter 3

As Buffybot charged across the street, she cried her splendid _Xena The Warrior Princess _battle cry.

"Arr-ow-arr-ow-arr-ow-a-arr!" she yodelled. If only she had a chakram!

The vampires - and one - fish, was it? - turned, startled, and broke into a run, dashing madly in many different directions. Buffybot ran after the nearest vampire, swinging her sword in a thrilling arc. This was super, super fun! She had a couple of stakes tucked in her waistband, so she only needed to cut the vampire's legs off, and then she could stake him good and proper. 

But unfortunately he was a very speedy vampire, and he was unsportingly refusing to turn and do battle. As they pounded down the street, Buffybot frowned. She was starting to feel a bit stupid, yodelling and swinging her sword, when the Evil Villain was steadfastly refusing to fight her. She shut her mouth, and held her sword by her side, and put on a burst of supernatural speed. As she did so, she heard a hiss of hydraulics, and her leg faltered beneath her. Buffybot spun and collapsed to the ground like a hamstrung athlete.

So much for _Practical Robotics_, she thought indignantly, levering herself to her feet with her sword. I don't think the man who wrote that book had any idea what he was talking about! She limped slowly back down the street towards the Magic Box.

... ... ... ... ...

Joan looked at the door nervously. She knew she was a super strong super hero of course, but those vampires were awful scary ... "We need to go," she said resolutely, "Ready, Randy?"  


Randy gave her a firm, serious nod. "Ready, Joan." He threw the door open, and they rushed out into the street. There was a blur of motion in the corner of his eye, and Joan fell. He rushed to her aid.

"Mrmph!" cried Joan, thrashing under the weight of her attacker.

"Buffy!" cried the Buffybot, "you're not in Oxford after all!" In her enthusiasm she had forgotten about her damaged leg, so when she had rushed forward to embrace Buffy she had toppled over and dragged her to the ground. "Sorry about knocking you over!" she cried merrily, dragging them both to their feet. "I hurt my leg fighting with a scaredy cat vampire!" And she squeezed Buffy's ribs extra hard, delighted to have found her friend.

Joan squeaked.

"Sorry again!" said the Buffybot. "I forgot about my super human strength for a minute there. Luckily you are ever so hard to damage!" She punched Joan on the shoulder in a friendly manner, then stared, alarmed, as Joan sank to the ground again, clutching her shoulder.

Joan rose slowly to her feet. "Uh, whoever you are, she said slowly. "I may be a super hero and super strong and stuff - but that sure hurt." 

Buffybot hurriedly ran a detailed diagnostic. Her lips formed into a 'ooh!" of alarm. She rushed forward and grabbed Buffy's arm sympathetically. Joan flinched backward, but her wrist was locked in an iron grip.

"I'm ever so sorry, again!" said Buffybot. "Jonathan has miscalibrated my arm." She frowned, "If only I had my 18 piece right angled wrench set with me!"

She released Buffy, and turned to Randy. He looked around for a place to run, but he was cornered.

"Spike!" Buffybot cried, and grabbed him in an enthusiastic bear hug.

He groaned, as his ribs creaked.

"Ahem," said Joan, wondering just who this tiny lethal little airhead was. Buffybot released Randy and turned to her expectantly.

Randy blinked and the stars in front of his eyes faded. He took a couple of shaky breaths. Oh my word! This strange unnaturally powerful girl was a dead ringer for the other strange unnaturally powerful girl he had just met - to whit, Joan. 

"Good Lord," he said, "twins with Super Powers, how extraordinary!"

"What?" said Joan.

"What?" said Buffybot.

They stared at each other, and then at Randy. As alike at two peas in a pod.

"I _so _do not look like her!" said Joan, pointing an indignant finger at Buffybot. "Look at that dopey expression, and that skirt - and that hair!"

"My hair is naturally curly!" said Buffybot, thrilled that Joan had noticed. She bounced up and down a bit.

Randy eyed her nervously. Something about their new friend seemed off to him, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it ... but she had mentioned vampires, and said she'd been hurt fighting one, so it seemed she was on the right side at least. "We were coming out to fight the evil vampires," he said cautiously, "but they seem to have disappeared."

"They ran away," said Buffybot proudly, "when I waved my sword at them." She waved her sword in a generous arc about her head. Randy and Joan ducked. "And the fish," she added. "He ran like crazy! I didn't know fish could run, or wear suits! It's not in my Grolier Encyclopaedia."

Randy edged up to Joan. "Our new friend seems a few sandwiches short of a picnic to me," he whispered. "Perhaps we should humour her until we find out more." He smiled at the Buffybot, who sent him a big grin zinging right back. She had heard every word he said of course, with her super hearing. Sandwiches! And a picnic! And they were going to humor her. How sweet!

Randy smiled at her, "You're obviously a sweet lovely girl - and very handy with that sword of yours!" he added as she swished it shyly near his shins - "and very friendly, with the hugging and all..."

Buffybot wiggled, delighted. Spike was being really nice! So, what nice thing could she say about Spike?"And you've got a very attractive penis." said said. She mentally flicked through an old data file, _Stuff to Say to Naked Men_, "And big," she added, "very big. Big and attractive! When you go to the shower I bet other men look at your penis, and say, "Gosh, I wish I had a penis as big and attractive as that one!"

Randy backed away, alarmed. When had this loony seen his penis? He couldn't - he quailed at the thought - he couldn't - he couldn't be her boyfriend, could he? He turned away from Buffybot, and came face to face with Buffy, who raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"Always interesting information to have," she drawled. She turned to Buffybot, "and I'd also be interested to learn how you came by that information sometime. But right now we have vampires to kill."

"Ahem, yes." Randy coughed, and then looked Buffybot sincerely in the eye. "Our names are Randy and Joan," he said, speaking slowly and clearly. "We're vampire hunters, but unfortunately we've temporarily lost our memories, so we're not sure exactly what we're doing here."

"I think you're on a Quest!" said the Buffybot brightly. She had been confused for a minute when Spike said Buffy was Joan, and he was Randy - but luckily she had worked it out, before she said anything silly! After all, what else could explain Jonathan saying Buffy and Spike were in Oxford, and then their showing up here under assumed names, and wearing funny clothes? As she had asked herself that question, a light bulb had come on over her head. It was a Role Playing Game - and they were In Character!

Buffybot bounced up and down, hugging herself. She hoped all the good characters weren't taken yet! She wanted to have a super power, and a magic weapon! And ideally cute shorts and a little backpack like Lara Croft - she would have to hunt for those, just as soon as she fixed her leg. "What is the Quest?" she said eagerly.

Joan looked at her uncertainly, "Well, first of all we need to kill the vampires - and then we're heading for the hospital."

Buffybot nodded seriously - they couldn't let a Role Play Game get in the way of the slaying evil creatures, naturally. And clearly it was a secret Quest, and the hospital would be where the first clue was. Excellent! 

But there was one thing she wasn't sure about yet. "How about the fish?" she asked. "I'm not sure about the fish. I mean obviously if it's a demon fish we should Slay it."

Randy exchanged another significant look with Joan. "We'll ask it," he said, "when we catch up with it."

"Good idea!" said Buffybot, "and if he _is _a demon you can cut him to pieces! Like this! Swoosh!" She produced a pile of imaginary demon steaks with a few elegant and wristy actions of her sword. "But unfortunately I can't come with you 'til I've fixed my leg," she said sadly. She looked at the Magic Box - Giles had tools. 

"Grea ...! I mean, too bad." said Joan. She crossed her arms defensively. Obviously this sword wielding maniac couldn't be any relation of hers - in spite of a certain superficial resemblance. She grabbed Randy's arm, and began to tow him down the street.

"Got to get on with that vampire slaying," she said firmly.

"I'll catch you up!" said Buffybot, waving merrily.

"Not if I can help it," muttered Joan. And she set off down the street at a pace that made Randy break into a little run.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Buffybot stepped carefully through the broken window of the Magic Box, pushing the metal shutter effortlessly backwards as she did so. Giles and Anya were at the back of the shop arguing over a book; and they looked up sharply, poised to flee, as the shutter groaned.

"Hi guys!" said Buffybot merrily, waving her sword in a friendly fashion.

"Joan! Back so soon?" asked Giles, stepping out from around the counter.

"I've damaged my leg, chasing a vampire," said Buffybot brightly, "But I'm not Joan, I'm...." she paused, a new and exciting idea thrumming through her circuits. She could choose a name. Any name! And it wouldn't be lying (which was _wrong_), because it was a Game. Could she, might she, dare she, be....

"....I'm Lara Croft!" she said, thrilled to the core. She crossed her fingers behind her back - please let no one else have bagged Lara already.

Giles looked blank. "So, your name's not Joan after all?" he said tentatively. Lara Croft? he thought. That name seems strangely familiar somehow.

"No!" said Buffybot, "Buffy's name is Joan - and Spike's name is Randy, and _my_ name is Lara!"

Giles gazed at her, boggled. The perky little stranger had said that sentence as though it made sense, and yet, when you analysed it, clearly...

Anya looked up from her book for a moment, bored. "Clearly, darling, this is not Joan," she said firmly. "Different hair, different clothes. Presumably she is Joan's twin sister or something. Now can we please concentrate on this spell." She tapped the page reprovingly.

Buffybot hobbled forward, and hitched herself up on to the table with a little sigh. There, that was better. "What's _your_ name?" she asked hopefully. Surely Mr Giles would be some really cool wizard or something?

Giles coughed. "My name is Giles, Rupert Giles," he said self consciously. "Um, is there anything I can do about your leg. I know some first aid."

Buffybot felt a little stab of disappointment. Well, that was no fun! Mr Giles was being a stick in the mud. Perhaps he was too old to play, and have fun? She knew people got all miserable, once their hair went grey, and their joints hurt and stuff. She looked hopefully at Anya - maybe she was the wizard, since she had a spell book? But Anya seemed too absorbed to be interrupted. Buffybot looked around the room hopefully; her leg really needed fixing before anything else.

"I can mend my leg myself," she said, "if I can borrow your wrench set."

Giles thought about that one for a minute; he was starting to worry again about whether he might have a concussion. He looked around vaguely. "Um, well you're very welcome of course," he said. "But I'm afraid I don't really know where it might be, if we have any such thing. We've mysteriously lost our memories, you know. Joan and Randy have set off to hunt down those vampires, and then get us help from the hospital."

Buffybot perked up. Mr Giles might not have been able to think of a good name, but he was at least trying to get into the spirit of things! She wondered if there was a costume box around - Spike must have got that ugly tweed suit from _somewhere._

"I'd also like some cute shorts, and a backpack," she said hopefully. "And a real tight little white t-shirt - and hiking boots. I can kick bad guys in the testicles with them! "

She had caught Anya's attention at last. The ex-demon was staring at her mismatched footwear. Buffybot had not, in the event, had to debase her Gucci Loafers, or her Blahnicks - but she had been forced to wear one each from her own pair of white sneakers, and a red and blue striped pair she had found in Willow's closet.

Buffybot noted Anya's critical regard, and blushed. Color co-ordination was so important!

"What's with the red, white and blue, Miss Yankee Doodle Dandy?" said Anya. She looked harder. "Two right shoes?" she said, suspiciously.

"I've got two right feet," said the Buffybot, blushing madly. 

"Shouldn't that be two left fee..." said Giles. He tailed off, as Buffybot leant down and slid off her sneakers, and wiggled her toes at them. There was a long, long silence. Then Anya began to babble very fast in a language Buffybot didn't recognise - in spite of her download of Babelfish! 

"________!" shouted Anya, and pointed a dramatic finger at the Bot. And, _Plink!_ There was a large lop eared rabbit sitting on her left-right sneaker. Anya screamed.

"Ooh!" said Buffybot, thrilled to bits. "Can I keep him?" 

"!________" shouted Anya, pointing again, and Buffybot's sneakers disappeared, to be replaced by a dozen or so Dutch dwarf rabbits, rather unconventionally coloured in red, white and blue racing stripes.

"Anya, darling," said Giles, sounding rather strained. "Perhaps that is not the right spell to use?"

"I know, Rupey!" shouted Anya, shuddering at the sight of the bunnies hopping towards her. "I was reversing it! Couldn't you tell I was reading it backwards?"

Giles closed his eyes. "Reading a spell backwards is not the same as reversing it, Anya darling," he said through clenched teeth. "As any fool should know!" He darted a nervous glance at the Buffybot, who was swinging her two right legs in delight, and gazing at the pretty little rabbits.

Anya narrowed her eyes dangerously, "Just who are you calling a fool, Rupey my love?" she said through clenched teeth. "You, you.... are a stuffy English twit! Sweetie," she added belatedly.

Giles bridled, offended, just as Anya leapt skittishly up onto the counter as the rabbits began to lope toward her. She stared accusingly at the Buffybot. "Just what kind of evil, Right-Footed, Rabbit-Spawning Demon are you, anyway?"

"Oh, I'm not a demon!" said Buffybot merrily. "I hunt demons and I slay them, with my wicked cool sword!" She waved it, causing them both to flinch, and hopped off the table. As she limped toward them, threading her way through the rabbits, she noticed that her leg was much improved. Perhaps I should just avoid cornering at speed, she thought; but still, it would be good if I could get it fixed properly, before I have to start swinging on ropes over bottomless chasms, and climbing up rockfaces while people shoot at me, and other exciting things!

She smiled a dazzling smile at Anya, "That spell was really cool! But can I have my sneakers back now?"

"Not unless you want to catch those rabbits, skin them and sew them into moccasins, no!" shouted Anya, who was feeling rather overwrought.

Buffybot stared at the little patriotically coloured bunnies, dismayed. She didn't want to harm a hair on their little bunny heads - and yet, she had taken Willow's sneaker without permission, and then got it transformed into lots of rabbits, which was terribly careless of her! She squared her shoulders. The only thing to do was to find Willow, and to Own Up. Then maybe later she could get a job at a sandwich shop (she felt a delighted little tingle at the thought), and earn some money to buy Willow a new pair of sneakers? She nodded firmly to herself. That was what she would do!

"Where's Willow?" she said, resolved upon her course.

"She's gone down into the sewers, with Tara, Dawn and Alex," said Giles slowly. Lara didn't _seem_ dangerous, despite her strange deformity. And she apparently knew Willow, and Joan and Randy. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Anya opening another magic book. He rushed to intercept her, Buffybot all but forgotten.

Buffybot limped toward the trapdoor into the cellar, not forgetting to snatch up Giles' wrench set as she went. The sewers - how exciting! This Role Playing Game was wonderful. 

I wonder how many monsters we're going to meet? she thought excitedly. I hope there's lots and lots and lots!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

Buffybot stamped hard with her left-right foot. 

There, that was better! It was amazing what you could do with a simple wrench set, when you put your mind to it! She gazed down at her bare feet. She was going to get them all dirty down here in the sewers, without any sneakers to wear. She spared a brief wistful thought for Lara Croft's boots. But still, a Bot couldn't have everything, and she was having the most tremendous fun, even without them! She lurched jauntily along, whistling a happy tune, and all senses alert for any evil slimy sewer monsters that might happen to be lurking nearby. 

Within a very few yards she heard distant screams, and broke into a run. Golly! It was her day for hearing screams, she thought eagerly. Of course, that might be part of the game.... She stepped out into a tunnel - to find a vampire! He turned and ran straight at her, and she took a moment to 'tsk' at his choice of shirt. That Miami Vice look was so yesterday!. But he was a proper Evil Villain, all the same - much better than those scaredy cats outside the Magic Box earlier. He rushed forward, growling, and waving his arms.

"Die, evil creature of the night!" she yelled, (she had a catch phrase! Whee!) and swung her sword low and wide. The vampire fell to the ground with a surprised expression on his face, his legs cut from under him. Buffybot whipped out one of her handy set of stakes and dusted him neatly as he toppled.

"There!" she said. "One down, who knows how many more to go!"

She headed eagerly down the tunnel, imagining herself as Lara Croft, seeking the Dagger of Xian inside the Great Wall of China.. After a moment her super sharp hearing caught a chorus of nervous breathing emanating from a grille just above her head. She leapt up, and caught the bars of the grille and gazed through the bars. There was a collective scream of terror.

"Hi, guys!" said Buffybot, so excited she nearly let go of the grille. "Is there a Clue in there?"

"It's Joan!" cried Dawn. "Come to save us!" She clambered forward shakily, and after a brief moment while they all tried to calm their shattered nerves, the others all clambered after her.

Buffybot giggled, as she dangled happily from the grille. They were all pretending to mistake her for Buffy! (Joan, she corrected herself conscientiously.) "Joan's off with Randy fighting vampires and fish!" she said merrily, swinging back and forth as she spoke. "I'm Joan's identical twin sister, and famous super heroine, Lara Croft!" She puffed up her chest proudly, sneaking just a little glance at Tara, Willow and Dawn to be sure they hadn't picked Lara first. 

The Scoobies drew back from the grille, suddenly nervous again. 

Buffybot regarded them bright eyed, delighted that no one had chirped up with a prior claim on Lara. "I'm hunting vampires," she said, "as well as the Dagger of Xian -and whatever you're looking for. We can hunt for them together! Next stop the hospital!"

Then Buffybot's head disappeared, and the grille swung open. The boggled foursome gazed at the open exit, their minds churning over the insanity they had just witnessed. 

Alex shuffled forward, and peeped timidly over the edge. Buffybot stood six feet below him, grinning merrily. He drew back sharply and turned to the others. "What do you think?" he said nervously.

Willow gulped, "Whoever she is, she's clearly nutty as a bag of macadamia cookies." 

There was a general nod of agreement. Clear headedness and mental hygiene did not seem to be characteristics of their new acquaintance.

"But on the other hand, you've gotta say she's athletic, plus she's a vampire hunter, _and _she has a sword to protect us with - which is all of the good," said Tara slowly.

"And, she seems to know where the hospital is," added Dawn, "which is more than any of us do."

They all looked at each other - that one clinched it, really. 

"Right," said Alex firmly, "let's get to the hospital with Lara," and he slid over to the entrance and slithered down into the tunnel below, closely followed by Dawn and Tara.

Willow, the last to jump, paused a moment and looked down at the scene below. Alex, Tara, and Dawn were huddled defensively in a bunch, like a little flock of frightened sheep, while 'Lara' skipped about excitedly, making little swishy gestures with her sword, and giggling to herself. Willow sighed, and slid down to join them, a small crystal falling unnoticed from her pocket to the floor as she did so. It seemed only too likely, she thought, that the only hospital their new friend knew the address for was the local mental hospital. 

As Alex dusted himself off, still feeling a little trembly, Buffybot leant forward, and tapped him very gently on the foot with her sword. "So," she said, grinning madly, "which super hero are you?"  
  
Alex jumped backwards, squashing Dawn. He took in the manic glazed look on Lara's face, the terrifying fixed grin, and the sword brandished in her hand - and shivered. Clearly this woman was dangerously insane, and needed to be humored. He darted a nervous look at his companions. Hopefully they would take his lead...."Uh, uh, I'm Mario, super Mario!" he said; cursing his previous dismissal of computer games as dreck fit only for nerds. He rolled his eyes meaningfully at the three girls bunched behind him.

"Super Mario is cute!" said Buffybot. "He has a droopy moustache and a silly hat!" She beamed approvingly at Alex, and turned to Dawn, leaving Alex to pat his upper lip self consciously.

"And who are you, Dawnie?"

Dawn gulped, her mind darting around like a rat in a trap. Super heroines, super heroines - why weren't there more super heroines? "I'm Éowyn," she blurted, surprising a snort of laughter from Willow behind her. 

Dawn turned and glared. "So, who are you?" she asked, "Any i_kinda gay/i_ red headed super heroines out there?"

Willow darted an anxious look at Tara pressed beside her, cursing Dawn under her breath. Clearly she should have known better than to confide in that shiny-headed little blabbermouth!

Tara put a hand on Willow's sleeve. "Gabrielle's a strawberry blonde - and, hoyay! to the subtext," she said shyly. She wasn't quite sure what Dawn was implying, but Willow looked in need of a bit of support.

Willow smiled at her gratefully. "That's it," she said, "I'm Gabrielle." She held eye contact with Tara for a little moment more, and then turned back to Dawn, and raised a sarcastic eyebrow.

"I thought your name was Umad."

Dawn stamped her foot. "It is not Umad!" she cried shrilly, "it's Éowyn, Princess of Rohan!" And then she stopped, appalled at the sheer geekiness of the words that had come out of her mouth.

Buffybot's grin spread wider. She loved i_Xena The Warrior Princess/i_ and_ iLord of the Rings/i_! Ooh! This game was soo-oo cool! Really, she was feeling almost i_over/i_stimulated by the sheer fun she was having. She turned to Tara, expectantly. Tara was bound to have come up with a good choice!

Tara was feeling flustered. She wasn't really much good at making things up; at least she thought she wasn't. And having Willow pressed up against her like this was proving to be remarkably distracting. Of course, if Willow was Gabrielle, she could..... but no, she shied away from the thought - she really couldn't see herself as the tall, strong, raven haired warrior princess. She cast about in her mind. Lara Croft was from Tomb Raider, of course, but they seemed to have strayed from that theme. And anyway, the Sims was the only computer game she played regularly. She had quietly and lovingly crafted a beautiful island state, run on mutually co-operative lines by a benevolent caste of magicians, who each had their own magic pony. (She had a confused idea she might have stolen that idea from somewhere.... Mercedes Lackey, that was it!) "Herald Talia," she blurted, and then blushed madly.

Buffybot looked from face to face with great interest. The Fearless Five! Lara, Mario, Éowyn, Gabrielle and Talia! Great! 

"Let's go and find the first clue, intrepid hero gang!" she said, striking an appropriately heroic pose. "And if we're really lucky we should run into some vampires on the way."


	6. Chapter 6

Meanwhile, back at the Magic Box, things hadn't been going well. There had been more bunnies, and demons, and green ectoplasm - and finally a very nasty little argument over a one way plane ticket. However, Love (and the practical application of scientific research methods) had found a way, and now Rupert and Anya were enjoying a very extensive kiss that had somehow come to involve a certain amount of disarrangement of clothing, and entanglement of limbs.

So, all in all, neither of them could be said to be very happy when the metal shutter to the Magic Box window was once again thrust aside, and Joan and Randy tumbled into the room.

Anya jumped to her feet, and buttoned her blouse hurriedly, while Rupert pulled his jacket into his lap.

"What on earth are _you _doing back here?" said Anya peevishly. Super heroes, she felt, should be out battling Evil, and averting Apocalypses - not breaking into shops where respectable shop owners were enjoying a little rest and relaxation with their fiancés.

"Vampires!" gasped Randy, flattening himself against the wall of the shop.

"Vampires just like you," said Joan pointedly.

Randy threw a indignant glance at her. _"Evil_ vampires," he said, "not like me at all." 

"You're a vampire?!" said Rupert, hurriedly rushing to the drawer behind the counter. 

Randy heaved a long suffering sigh, "As I have already explained to Joan, I must be a noble vampire. A good vampire, with a soul."  


Rupert had reached the drawer now, and drew out a crucifix. He ran back, and brandished it in Randy's face, pushing Anya behind him. 

Randy hissed, and his face transformed. Rupert gave a little yelp, and skipped back a pace allowing Anya to rest an appreciate hand on his butt. She smiled - now here was a proper gentleman! Ready to put his body between her precious self and danger. She wondered how long it would take to turf out the tiresome twosome, and get down to some serious bump and grind.

"It's okay, Mr Giles," said Joan, staring moodily at her nails. She was going to break one with this stake wielding, and vampire tossing stuff, she was sure of it. "He really is a good vampire, even if that is kinda lame."

"Ah," said Rupert, suddenly feeling rather self conscious. He put the crucifix in his pocket, and coughed. Anya immediately slipped her arms around his waist, and a slightly dopey grin spread across his features.

Randy coughed, too. Should a good vampire hiss when confronted with a crucifix? He couldn't be sure, and it was worrying him. "We had to return, when demonic reinforcements arrived," he said earnestly, his face settling back into its human form. "We fought long and hard, and overcame many enemies, but were finally overset when our adversaries brought a new weapon to bear upon the field of battle."

Joan rolled her eyes. She'd thought Randy was going to be kinda fun, but boy did he go on once he opened his dumb yappy mouth. Even when he was all bumpy!

"Cut a long story short, they've got a bazooka." she said.

..............

The intrepid hero gang was making its intrepid way along the main sewer tunnel, glancing wide eyed about and behind them, jumping at the rustling of rats, and the gurgling of pipes. Buffybot strode along jauntily at their head, mentally picturing herself in shorts and a singlet, running up walls, and jumping on to ledges. "This is the way!" she declared, striking out confidently down a side turning, her sword gleaming in the surprisingly well-lit sewers of Sunnydale.

Her fearless super hero companions scurried after her, trying at the same time to keep close enough that she could protect them with her sword, if another savage vampire jumped out at them, and yet far enough away that she couldn't accidentally behead them with a careless backhand.

With a quick, nervous glance up the latest dark corridor, Tara moved up beside Buffybot - on her left, swordless, side - and cleared her throat, shyly. "So, Lara," she said, "have you killed lots of vampires?" 

Buffybot gave a pleased little wiggle, Tara had called her Lara! So much cooler than Buffybot, or Bottie. She began to wonder seriously if she couldn't keep the name forever. "I've killed gazillions of them," she said proudly, "but not as many as Buffy of course!"

"Buffy?" said Tara, "who's Buffy?"

Buffybot put her hand to her mouth guiltily - she'd Gone Out Of Character! "Joan, I mean," she said quickly. "She's the Real Slayer! But, to be fair - I _have _made way more sandwiches than her."

Tara looked at her doubtfully. Perhaps 'sandwiches' was Slayer talk for diced and sliced demons, or something? She gazed down at Buffybot's bare, and rather grubby, feet, wondering if it would be tactful to ask about her lack of footwear. Then she looked again - something here was wrong, terribly wrong. She gave Buffybot a weak smile, moved back to join the group behind her, and slipped a hand through Willow's arm.

...............

"A bazooka!" yelled Anya, letting go of Rupert abruptly, and marching up to Joan. "A bazooka, and you brought them here?" She gestured wildly at the crowded shelves around her. "Do you have any idea what kind of damage a bazooka could do to this shop?" she said rhetorically. "Oh, oh, but of course you do, super hero vampire slayer that you are! You just don't think it matters, is that it? Is it?" She grabbed Joan by the collar and spat the last few words in her face.

"Um, Anya," said Rupert tentatively. "perhaps manhandling a Slayer is not the wisest..."

Joan's push sent Anya skidding backwards. She crashed against Rupert and they went down in a tangle of limbs.

"Oops," said Joan. "Guess someone mis-calibrated my arm as well." 

Randy stepped over and offered the fallen couple a hand up. After a visible hesitation, Rupert took the offered assistance, and rose rather stiffly to his feet.

"That was quite uncalled for, young woman," he said to Joan. "I am sorry to see that no one has taught you the proper manners and restraint to go along with your super strengths and skills."

Joan scowled. "I barely touched her, the big baby," she said sulkily. She glared around her. "And let's get it straight right now," she said, smoothing her lapels with loving hands. "Nobody messes with my clothes!"

Randy broke the somewhat awkward pause that followed with a little cough. "We are, in any case, just passing through," he said. "Since the route above ground is blocked, we must perforce take to the sewers. It appears to be the only safe way."

At that moment, there was tremendous crash from the cellar below them. Anya clutched Rupert's arm nervously, and Randy went bumpy again, on sheer reflex.

................

"Here we are!" Buffybot came to halt, and looked up at a trapdoor high above her. She put her sword down neatly, took a prodigious leap, and dangled from a convenient water pipe running along the ceiling. With a merry "hup, hup!" she swung herself upwards and head butted the trapdoor, which flew off its hinges and upwards in to the darkness. There was a loud crash as the dislodged wooden slab hit the cellar wall above. Meanwhile, clouds of splinters, dirt and rust fell through the hole onto the upturned faces of her companions below. They scattered in every direction coughing and spluttering helplessly. Buffybot swung again, up and through the opening, to land in the cellar above. Good thing she had seen _Trapeze_ 28 times!

She looked around her at the familiar storeroom, currently filled with billowing clouds of dust. This was the place all right.


	7. Chapter 7

The door to the cellar crashed open, and Joan leapt into the room, closely followed by Randy, each with two stakes at the ready. Rupert and Anya peered round the door behind them, ready to run if necessary.

"Hi guys!" said Buffybot. "You're back!"

Joan and Randy looked at each other, and groaned, in unison. It was that lunatic again. They relaxed out of their fighting pose, and put up their stakes, unconsciously mirroring each other as they did so.

Joan folded her arms, and tapped one stake impatiently on her sleeve. Not a vampire in sight. "Just what are you doing in here?" 

"We're going to the hospital to hunt for Clues!" said Buffybot, bouncing on her toes. This was ever so exciting! Everyone in one place, ready for the Hunt!

"We?" said Rupert. He and Anya had slipped into the room, and were now standing hand in hand staring doubtfully at the hole in the middle of the floor.

Buffybot turned to the open trap behind her. "Me and my intrepid band," she said proudly, gesturing downwards.

Rupert, Anya, Joan and Randy all moved closer to the trap. Four fearful and curious pairs of eyes peered over the edge - to be met by four fearful and curious pairs of eyes looking back up at them.

"Dawn!" cried Joan.

"Joan!" cried Dawn. "At least, is that you, or is it Lara?"

Joan blinked. "It's me," she said. "Joan, your big sister, remember?"

"Well, obviously I remember," said Dawn a little testily, "I just wasn't sure if it was you or Lara, that's all. You're kinda hard to tell apart."

"Except my hair is naturally curly, and naturally blonde!" said Buffybot. 

Joan threw the Bot a dirty look. Why did everyone keep saying she looked like this dork? Just look at her. Obviously completely simple, and with totally lame hair!

Rupert, meanwhile, had fetched the ladder stored at the back of the cellar, and fed it down the hole. One by one Dawn, Willow, Tara and Alex emerged - filthy, sweat stained and exhausted.

Anya, who had been admiring Rupert's backside as he leaned over the open trap, turned to regard the bedraggled foursome with a certain amount of satisfaction. Ha! Eveyone had thought she was stupid, making Rupey stay behind with her in the shop - but look at the state of everyone who'd gone off questing, and vampire hunting!

"Weren't you able to get through?" asked Randy. "The vampires are out in force up in the streets."

"And they've got a bazooka," said Joan. "Randy was all cool and brave - he was going to charge it - but even a noble vampire couldn't survive a direct hit from one of those things." 

Buffybot's eyes went round. A bazooka! Well, that was just unsporting, and _Evil! _

"Randy's a vampire?!" cried the frightened foursome, huddling together again.

__

"A _noble_ vampire, with a_ soul_," said Randy rather wearily, holding his hands out to show just how harmless he was. Sadly, the stakes he held in each hand undermined the effect a bit, and they all flinched.

"It _is _kinda lame," said Joan, misinterpreting the expressions on her new friends' faces. "But that's the way it is. He's noble, and he's chatty." 

Randy sent her a rather resentful look. He was _not _chatty, he was eloquent! Joan seemed a bit insensitive, frankly. Even though she _was _darned attractive.

"Only one vampire downstairs," said Alex, brushing at the grease and dirt stains on his pants. "And Lara got him. And she said she knew the way to the hospital. So we followed her. Right back here, as it turns out." He looked at the Buffybot quizzically, handing back her sword as he did so.

"That's right!" Buffybot nodded at Alex excitedly. "The hospital is down in Southside. Thattaway, about five miles after the sewers end!" She pointed confidently at the south wall of the cellar. 

There was a long silence while everyone thought that through.

"The hospital is beyond the range of the sewer complex," said Willow slowly. She ran her hand through her hair and sighed, thinking of the hours of gut churning terror they had just spent down in those tunnels.

"Oh goodness me, yes!" said Buffybot. She looked around her, bright eyed. "It would be quickest if we took Mr Giles' car," she said. "But if that isn't allowed in the Game we can walk it, easy. I've patched up my leg really well!" She tapped her thigh, satisfied with a job well done.

"Is it red?" said Randy.

Buffybot turned to him, puzzled.

"The car, is it red?"

"Ooh yes!" said Buffybot. "It's red, and sporty, and it has a great big engine - vroom, vroom!" She pumped an imaginary accelerator with her splendid patched up leg, grinning.

"Thought so!" said Randy, smirking at Rupert. 

Rupert coughed and adjusted his collar self-consciously. "I suppose, conceivably, we could all pack into my car, somehow. If we could find it, of course." He spoke without any enthusiasm. The idea of his car - which sounded like it was perfectly lovely - becoming the target of a bazooka wielding demon did not appeal to him.

There was a depressed silence. Thing really didn't seem to be going at all well.

Buffybot looked at her companions, puzzled. No one seemed to be enjoying the Game much - and yet she was having a wonderful time! 

"Perhaps we should look for my car, at that," said Rupert gloomily.

"Hang on a minute," said Joan. She moved across the room and looked hard at Buffybot. "How does _she_ know what color your car is, or that you've got a car at all?"

"Hmm ... that's a very good question," said Rupert, looking at Joan approvingly. He turned to Buffybot, eyebrow raised.

"And another thing ..." started Willow.

"..we couldn't help noticing," added Tara.

Willow's finger pointed at Buffybot's grubby toes, " ...why does she have two right feet?" The eyes of the assembled throng followed her dramatically pointing finger. There was a collective gasp from all but Rupert and Anya.

"Rupey and I already noticed the feet," said Anya, "_ages_ ago. We thought it was kinda odd, too."

"Odd!" shouted Dawn. "She's got two right feet! That's more than bit odd!" She shuddered, and eyed Buffybot with distaste. It was just so _unfair_ that she had been saddled with a mad, deformed elder sister, as well as a bossy one. "She could be like a Bride of Frankenstein or something!"

Everyone looked at Buffybot, and her sword, with renewed alarm. She beamed back at them.

"Lara," said Tara carefully. "No one's accusing you of anything here. Or suggesting that you are in any way a Bride of Frankenstein," she added, frowning at Dawn. "But we are all ... puzzled by why you have two right feet. Now, I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation ..."

"Yes, there is," said Buffybot cheerfully. Her logic circuits were beginning to race, as she processed the conversation so far.

"Really?" said Tara, startled.

"Yes!" said Buffybot. "My left leg got run over by a motorbike, and Jonathan only had a spare right leg."

Rupert heard Anya give an exasperated sigh. He nodded to himself. It was exactly this kind of comment that had given him a headache the last time he'd talked to this girl. 

"Would that be Jonathan Frankenstein?" muttered Dawn, with a little sidelong look at Tara.

Buffybot sent her a dazzling smile. "No, it's Jonathan Levinson. He re-built me!"

Rupert looked around at the boggled expressions on the faces around him. Well, at least he wasn't the only ... oh, wait! "Oh, oh, dear Lord!" cried Rupert. "Wrenches, spare parts, re-building - you're ..."

"You're the Bionic Woman!" gasped Alex.

"You're a robot!" gasped Rupert at the same time, and then threw Alex an irritated glance. Was the boy an idiot?

"Yes I am!" said Buffybot. 

There was a collective ooh! as everyone stared at Buffybot's two grubby right feet. She wiggled her toes a little self consciously. It was amazing how interested everyone was in them! 

There was a confused babble of voices as everyone began to talk at once, and to gesticulate wildly, and re-run the various strange conversations in their mind that taken place recently in their minds. Buffybot stood patiently, her mind was racing. Could it be everyone really _had_ lost their memories? It wasn't part of the Game? Her eyes got big - ooh! That explained all sorts of things!

__

"What are you for?" asked Anya, cutting to the chase.

"I fight and I slay!" said Buffybot proudly, "and I make sandwiches and pancakes, and I wash up - and I download stuff, and I read lots and lots of books!" She turned to Tara with a big beaming grin. "Tara lends me her books; she has great books!" Tara smiled back at her, weakly. Apparently she was best friends with a lethal demon slaying Robo-girl. Well, that was no weirder than anything else that had happened today.

"And now.." Buffybot rustled in her jacket pocket, causing the crowd to jump back, " ...now I've got my own library card!" she said triumphantly, brandishing a little plastic oblong in the air.

The Scoobies stared at her as she stood, flashing them a dazzling smile, sword in one hand, library card in the other. It was a weird, weird world they found themselves in.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It was a tired and bewildered group of adventurers who sat in the cellar of the Magic Box. They still hadn't heard anything from above, and certainly no one had fired a bazooka at the shop, which was good. On the other hand, they were cold, and hungry, and thirsty - and they were no nearer a solution to their problem than they had ever been. And questioning Lara was proving very nearly as exhausting as fighting vampires. They gazed wearily at her, standing there bouncing and grinning excitedly, obviously still chock full of beans - or the robotic equivalent.

Tara took up the thread again - everyone else seemed a bit beaten down. "So, Lara, you're a robot, who was built to look like Joan here," Tara waved at Joan, who rolled her eyes, "who is the Vampire Slayer, which is some sort of Special Chosen Girl, who fights vampires and demons?" Buffybot nodded enthusiastically. "And we are all her gang? Who help her fight vampires and demons?" 

Buffybot nodded again, Tara was smart! 

"And you fight the demons in Sunnydale while she's away on holiday?" finished Tara, rather doubtfully. A Slayer who took vacations seemed kinda.... casual.

"Yes!" said Buffybot. "I hunt and I..."

Joan silenced her with a raised hand. "We got that bit," she said. She looked around at the weary group, "But what we all really need to know is what's going on right now." 

"Yeah," said Willow, "with the hospital thing, and the Quest." She wriggled, embarrassed, and looked sideways at Joan and Randy - they hadn't let themselves be coerced into using silly names, and following a robot about. She was kinda hoping that whole topic wouldn't have to come up.

Everyone looked at Buffybot intently, hanging on her words. Buffybot grinned back at them all.

"Well, I don't know exactly," she said brightly. "I only woke up this morning, when Jonathan was fixing me. But I'm guessing you're all under a Spell. A Forgetting Spell!"

Everyone gazed at each other - a spell! Of course! They were under a spell. It explained so much.

"Sorcery!" gasped Randy, outraged.

"Indeed," said Willow portentously. "Some evil sorcerer - or sorceress - no doubt has an evil scheme for World Domination or an apocalypse or something, and he's got us out of the way with this forgetting spell! It's fiendishly cunning." 

"Well," said Anya, outraged. "The cheek of it, making me forget getting engaged to Rupey." She glared around the room. Someone was going to pay for this!

"We need our memories back," cried Joan. "to know who's evil scheme it is that we're fighting! Then we go kick their Evil Demon ass!"

Everyone brightened. Kicking ass sounded very satisfying. They all began to mill around, full of resolution, but a little short of strategy. After a confused, enthusiastic few moments, they stopped uncertainly again.

Finally, Rupert coughed. "First of all, I think," he said firmly, "we should all sit down and try to establish just exactly who we are, and what our situation is, and what our powers are." He looked at Buffybot, who had obediently plunked herself down on a packing case, and was now absently wiggling her very disconcertingly bizarre toes. "Apparently the robo... that is, Lara here, can tell us. And once we have the facts at our disposal we can then decide a sensible course of action to deal with the vampires, and the demons, and the shark with the bazooka." He paused, "I can't believe I just said that," he added plaintively.

"A _shark _with a bazooka?" said Willow, not sure she'd heard quite right. "Nobody mentioned a shark."

Randy nodded, his expression grave. "Lara here told us it was a fish," he said, "but in fact it's a shark. And it's armed."

"A shark _is_ a fish!" said Buffybot, having made a lightning fast data check. "They're _elasmobranchs_!"

Joan ground her teeth; this robot was a smartass. "A _talking_ shark, which is kinda more important than the fishiness," she said pointedly, "a _walking_, talking shark. Randy and I met it out in the street, and it set a bunch of vampires on us. And when we killed them its henchmen hauled out a bazooka." She took in the various startled and sceptical expressions around her, and held her hands out. "What can I say? It's what happened. And it was shouting at us. Apparently noble-vampire-with-a-soul Randy here owes it some kittens."

Randy shifted, uncomfortably. He was beginning to feel kind of disillusioned about his noble vampiric self. Trading in pet supplies with a low-life shark sounded like a deeply suspicious activity for a vampire-with-a-soul to be engaged in.

"Ah! Now that makes more sense!" said Buffybot, pleased.

"How?" said Alex incredulously. "A talking shark that runs a gang of vampires? In what Looney Tunes version of the world does that make sense?"

Buffybot blinked, confused. It seemed obvious to her - but it was rude to say that people were being slow, even if they were! "It's a _demon_ _loan shark!" _she said kindly. She turned to Randy. "I expect Spike has been gambling again. He has lots of bad habits!" 

Everyone looked at Randy disapprovingly. He blushed.

"Wait a minute!" said Anya. She pointed to Buffybot, and then at Randy. You just called him Spike!" She looked at Spike suspiciously. "He told us his name was Randy."

Buffybot smiled at Anya, "No, it's not Randy - Spike's name is Spike. Because he used to kill people with railroad spikes!" 

There was a deathly silence, and Dawn and Joan, who had been standing nearby to the tweedy if noble Randy, edged slowly away.

"But he doesn't do that any more," said Buffybot quickly, watching dismayed as the gap around Spike grew and spread. "Now he helps Buffy stake evil things instead! With stakes, not spikes!" she added, to be clear - pointing at the stakes in Spike's hands. He dropped them with a guilty clatter, and backed away into a corner, his head in his hands.

"Who's Buffy?" said everyone else at once.

Buffybot pointed, and a look of horror spread over Joan's face. "Buffy?!" she cried, "What lame-ass kind of a name is Buffy?!"

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer," said Willow thoughtfully, tasting the words. She looked at Tara for support. "It doesn't sound so bad."

"Not bad at all, said Tara quickly. She smiled at Buffy, "And you _are_ the Slayer, that's pretty cool."

"Yeah, but Buffy is kinda lame-ass," said Dawn, grinning, "Dawn's not so bad if Buffy is the alternative."

Buffybot opened her mouth, but Anya interrupted. "What's _my _realname?" she demanded.

Buffybot turned to her. "You're Anya, and you run the magic shop, with Giles! Where you sell magic things. For money." She grinned at Anya. "You like money, a lot! You say gold used to be your favourite color, but you've changed with the times, and now it's green." Buffybot gazed at her bright eyed, "Because dollars are green!" she added helpfully.

"I got it," said Anya tetchily. "Greenbacks, dollars, got there. I just didn't find it terribly amusing, that's all." She glared at the assembled company - there had been a titter there, she was sure. 

"And you're an ex-vengeance demon," added Buffybot as an afterthought, "but you haven't tortured any men in ages!"

There was a long, long silence. Alex, who had moved carefully away from Spike, now eddied uncertainly back the way he had come, as he tried to put some space between himself and the man-torturer. After a bit of awkward pushing and shuffling a clear space opened up between the reformed demons on one side, and their nervous human companions on the other.

"Rupey?" said Anya, fingering her engagement ring.

Hovering on the edge of the human group, Giles gave her a harried smile, and pulled at his tie. Apparently he was engaged to an ex-demon. A man torturing ex-demon. _Was he mad?_

Buffybot, meanwhile, was thinking furiously. It was a good thing she hadn't mentioned that Buffy used to be dead, or that Dawn had been a glowy ball of green stuff! Her revelations about Anya and Spike had not gone down at all well. In fact, they seemed to be causing a great deal of tension - which was Bad for the Group, and just precisely at the time when they all needed to pull together to defeat Evil! She frowned; was it in her friends' interests to reveal any more awkward facts right now? Or was she causing them Psychological Harm? She ran over the articles on situational ethics and psychology stored in her Encyclopaedia - and came to a decision. No more awkward or uncomfortable facts just now. She wouldn't lie or anything of course. But nice things only! 

She looked over at Giles and Anya. Giles had pulled himself together, and placed a nervous hand on Anya's shoulder, and she had reacted by grabbing him in a hug, and locking lips. Buffybot smiled. It was great they had got together - and Xander didn't seem to mind, either! All the same, she made a little note to herself: no mention of anyone dying, or being born strangely late, or that Anya used to have _lots _of sex with Xander. She looked up, her course determined. 

"Okay, said Buffy, drawing a long, deep breath. "So let's hear the worst. Any other retired demons, vampires, or other evil non-human entities among us?" Everyone left in the human group looked at Buffybot apprehensively.

Buffybot's smile widened. "No!" she said happily. "You're all humans!" There was a collective sigh.

Alex coughed. "And, er do any of us beside Buffy here have any powers?" he asked hopefully, "like, you know, super-strength?" He flexed his biceps; he felt pretty strong.

"Yes!" said Buffybot excitedly. This was a nice thing she could tell them! She turned to Tara and Willow, and pointed. "You're Tara Maclay, and you're a witch, and you're Willow Rosenberg, and you're a witch too! White witches! You do really cool spells together!"

Willow and Tara both straightened up, excited. Buffybot glowed. It was fun telling people nice things! Rupert, Alex and Dawn looked at her expectantly. 

"And you're Rupert Giles," said Buffybot brightly, pointing, "and you're real smart, and you know lots of languages and history, and about demons and things; and you're Buffy's Watcher, so she has to do what you say!"

"Oh!" said Giles, pleased. "That sounds, erm, very likely. And sensible. Likely and sensible!" 

Behind him, Buffy pulled a face. How 'smart' and 'sensible' was it is to get all intimate with an ex-demon?

"And _you_.!" Buffybot pointed at Alex, "are Xander Harris, Willow's childhood friend, and good at woodwork." She turned to Dawn, "and._you_.are Dawn Summers, Buffy's little sister; she looks after you when she's not busy slaying things or going to college!" 

Buffybot gave a happy little nod; that was everyone summed up, she felt - and with no bad things - like anybody once being a bug eating minion, or possessed by a hyena spirit - even mentioned! 

Xander and Dawn stared at her.

"That's it?" said Dawn, outraged. "I'm just the baby sister? That's all you've got to say about me?" 

"You like pancakes," said Buffybot hopefully.

"And I use the wrong half of my name, and I'm good at woodworking," said Xander flatly. "Yay." 

"Yay!" echoed Buffybot, putting considerably more brio into it than Xander had managed. She peered at Xander and Dawn, feeling some of the glow fading. They were both disappointed, and it made her sad. What to do? Ah! Buffybot felt the glow growing again as she made a mental note. She would just have to find something brave for them to do - that would cheer them up!

"Okay," said Buffy, squaring her shoulders. "Now we all know who we are, let's go track down the Evil Sorcerer - and Slay him!" She paused, and regarded her troops. "Any suggestions on how to do that?"

Xander and Dawn looked across at each other, sulking. Clearly _they_ weren't going to have any good suggestions. Why not leave it to the people with _special _powers?

"Research," cried Giles. "There's got to be a book about it somewhere!"

"A tracking spell," cried Willow. "Give him a taste of his own medicine."

"Let's find a handy minion and torture him for information," cried Anya, her eyes glowing.

"Hmm, those all sound good, said Buffy thoughtfully. "Except the research one." Giles glared at her, offended.

"Um, I've got another suggestion," said Tara shyly. Heads turned, surprised, in her direction. "Why don't we find this Jonathan Levinson, that fixed up Lara here? Maybe he knows who the Sorcerer is." She ducked her head.

"Yes!" said Anya, "we can torture Jonathan!" Everyone looked at her. "Or maybe, you know, just ask him politely," she added quickly.

"It's a Plan," said Buffy. She looked across at Spike, who was still huddled in the corner. "Come on Mr Noble Vampire-With-A-Soul," she said cheerfully. "Let's go a'Sorcerer hunting!"


	9. Chapter 9

Now, gentle reader, an astute observer such as yourself will no doubt be asking just why, when in possession of a bazooka, the vampires outside had chosen not to fire into the Magic Box, and immolate all their enemies in one fell swoop? It seems odd, I agree. And it may have occurred to you to wonder why more demons and creatures of the night don't acquire bazookas, and landmines, and flamethrowers, and cluster bombs and so forth, to obliterate their evil-fighting adversaries from a safe distance and at their leisure.

What had transpired this evening in the streets of downtown Sunnydale goes a long way to explaining just that very thing.

When Spike and Buffy had run out of the shop, staked several of Mr Teeth of the_ Elasmobranchs_ family's vampire henchmen and pursued the sharp suited gentleman down the street, his remaining demon enforcers had brought out the bazooka - and fired it. Sadly, they'd missed Buffy, and the shot had veered left, through a second floor window, and burned out the nest of the gang of Night Crawlers that lived in a warehouse at the end of the street. Debris from the resulting explosion had rained onto the sidewalk below, damaging the paintwork of a black stretch limo belonging to the Demon Freemason's Association of Sunnydale, who were meeting on the warehouse's ground floor. As both groups had boiled out into the street, full of fury, a second shot fired towards the fleeing Slayer had whizzed past the angry demons' ears, singeing tentacles and withering bristles as it went.

With a massed roar of fury, Freemasons and Night Crawlers alike had charged down the street. The vampire bazooka wielders had panicked, and fired into the crowd, setting several of their enemies alight, but slowing the main advance not the slightest. The vampires accordingly had broken and run. Soon, a boiling mass of pissed off demons of various stripes were pursuing bazooka wielders into the night and tearing them limb from limb. At each demon haunt they ran through, the excitement of the chase transmitted itself to the various lurking and bloodthirsty inhabitants, and the fight spread, spectacularly, throughout the demon quarter. In a very short time chaos reigned.

Jonathan, meanwhile, had trailed Buffybot to the Magic Box, seen her encounter with the vampires, and then with Buffy and Spike, as he stood frozen in a doorway, awaiting with terror the moment when Buffy would track him down with her Slayer-sense and lay an accusing Slayer-hand on the shoulder, and demand that he explain himself. 

Instead, she and Spike had run off into the darkness, while the Buffybot went into the store. He had pressed himself into a dark corner, discovering too late that someone had previously used it as urinal. But he was too chickenshit to knock at the Magic Box door, and follow the Bot. After a long miserable period of suspense, he had heard the sound of running footsteps, and Buffy and Spike had pelted back down the street, and tumbled into the Magic Box again. As he stood there, staring after them, and still paralysed by indecision, the sounds of what appeared to be a full-blown riot arose behind him.

Jolted into action, he finally stirred from his smelly little refuge and set off, aiming to skirt round the trouble. But this proved difficult. The riot seemed to be raging back and forth and the noise of car alarms, loud angry explosions, and strange banshee screams sounded in every direction. Soon he was shaking, half blinded by smoke, and jumping at his own shadow. He veered off into a dark alley - and stumbled aside as a vampire charged by, carrying his own arm, closely pursued by a screaming banshee character with three heads. Jonathan backed away, trembling - and was grabbed by his collar and dragged backwards into the darkness. He screamed.

"Eeeee....! Mrmph!" cried Jonathan, as he was lifted off his feet, and his air supply was abruptly cut off with an unbreakable head lock. His captor dragged him through a doorway, and down a flight of stone steps - bump, bump, bump - into what appeared to be a basement, and dumped him roughly on his feet again, maintaining a choking hold upon his collar.

Jonathan gagged, and then blinked. Even in his present terrified condition his surroundings were still mind boggling. The two walls facing him were full of floor-to ceiling fish tanks, each tank brightly lit, and containing an assortment of abnormally fat and lazy salmon, gazing out at him with glassy and disinterested eyes. 

His invisible captor swung him around 180° and he was staring at an old fashioned kitchen range, with a butcher's block beside it, and a full set of pots and pans hung neatly from the wall. A few degrees more, and he saw a writing desk, on which sat a closed laptop, and a reading lamp. A few degrees yet further, and he found himself gazing incredulously at a shark in a gangster suit, sitting in an armchair with his head in his fins. 

The shark looked up. "All I wanted," it said plaintively, "was an overdue basket of kittens. Now that's not too much to ask, is it?"

"Um ... no?" squeaked Jonathan, his mind racing. It would be so much easier to think without the strangulating grip around his neck, but he decided not to mention it.

"Slayers," said the shark bitterly, "bring nothing but grief. And Slayers hanging out with Vampires ..." He shuddered. "It ain't natural you know," he said earnestly. "There should be a law against it."

Jonathan tried to nod in agreement, but his head was firmly clamped in place.

The shark jumped to his feet, and put his fins in his jacket pockets. He looked around him moodily. "I got a nice little operation here," he said, "guy wants a loan, they come and see Dr Teeth. Polite friendly service, generous flexible terms and conditions to suit all borrowers' needs - and extreme penalties for non-payment. It works very nicely."

"Extreme penalties?" said Jonathan waveringly, and then wished he hadn't.

"A guy don't come up with his kittens - he's food for the fishes." How would this work with a vamp? Would the vamp have to be eaten alive-or undead-to keep from dusting before the fish could make a meal? Could Jonathan imagine that? He indicated the tanks full of lazy fish with an expansive arm. Jonathan's stomach turned; he'd thought those fish seemed mighty fat!

"And then of course, the fishes is food for me." The shark pointed to the writing desk sitting alongside his butchers block. "I'm writing a book of recipes," he said proudly, "it's called '1,000 Ways To Serve a Salmon'. I got to 827, and I was working on 828," he indicated the kitchen range, and the laptop, "but who knows when I'm gonna have a chance to finish writing it up now, with this damn riot in the streets?"

"Plenty of food for the fishes out dere though, Boss," rumbled a deep scary voice just behind Jonathan's ear.

The shark twitched irritably. "It ain't gonna do us any good, since your dumb buddies decided to chargrill them some Demon Freemasons. We need to get out of town 'til things calm down - but not without those damn kittens. I've got a reputation to maintain." It looked accusingly at Jonathan. "Now, you," it said, "are a friend of the Slayer's."

"No I'm not!" cried Jonathan. "She thinks I'm a dork!"

"Then why are you carrying one of her axes, and running around the streets with her?" asked the shark accusingly. "We saw you, you know! You're one of them damn scubas aren't you?"

"Scoobies," corrected Jonathan, and then tried to kick himself for being such an idiot. Unfortunately this is hard to do when held up on your toes by a grip on your shirt collar, so he kicked the shin of his invisible captor instead. The grip on his throat tightened abruptly, and Jonathan felt himself turning tomato red.

"Scoobies, scubas - it's all the same to me," said the shark. "What I want is kittens." He kicked moodily at the floor, and then looked up at his sidekick, "Drop him before you break his dumb little neck," it grumbled. 

The grip on Jonathan's collar abruptly disappeared, and he fell to the floor, gasping and wheezing. He turned, and looked up, to find the biggest vampire he had ever seen scowling down at him - the kind of guy who must have to book two seats on aeroplanes, and buy a truck with really top rate suspension. He trembled.

"Now!" said the shark, and Jonathan turned away from the looming bloodsucker behind him, to face the terrifying sight of a smiling shark. "Pussy here is gonna send the Slayer and her Pet Vampire a little message for me. And_ you_ ..." The shark leant in towards Jonathan, his teeth gleaming "... you are gonna stay here, and help me with the fish."


	10. Chapter 10

The Scooby gang had gathered around the shop counter of the Magic Box as they pondered their next move. It was all very well to say they were going to find Jonathan - but how to do it?

"A tracking spell!" said Buffybot. She gazed with bright eyed approval at Willow and Tara. They didn't remember how to do one, of course - but she knew every last detail! "Jonathan's going to be really excited and happy to see us," she said happily. "He thinks you're all in Oxford, England, fighting the terrible Vindaloo Monster! Poor, brave little Jonathan, trying to keep the strets of Sunnydale safe all by himself." She looked around her at the various heavily stacked shelves. "There should be everything here that we need," she said, and bustled over to a stack of drawers, and started pulling them out. 

Crash! The shutters covering the Magic Box window were flung back with tremendous force. Well drilled by now, everyone threw themselves to the ground - and just as well, because an axe flew across the room and embedded itself in the wall above the shop counter.

The shutters clattered back in a tumultuous screech of tortured metal, the metal slats irretrievably warped and torn, and there was sound of heavy footsteps retreating.

Anya jumped to her feet and shook her fist. "You mindless savages!" she yelled, "Have you no respect for property? When I catch you I am going to do terrible, terrible things to your entrails!" 

Rupert, still crouched on the shop floor, patted her leg. "There, there, my dear," he said soothingly, "we're bound to be the kind of sensible and responsible shop owners who have property insurance."

Anya tilted her head. "That's true," she said, a little mollified. "But I still think hanging's too good for them." She glared at the warped and battered shutters, a variety of colourful and gruesome revenges running through her head.

Buffy and Spike had also regained their feet, and Spike moved to lever the axe from out of the wall. He gave a little exclamation. "There's a note!" he cried, "taped to the axe." He pulled it from the wall with a little jerk, and laid it on the counter. Everybody slowly got up off the floor, dusted themselves off and gathered around.

"Well, if they wanted to send us a note, what was wrong with putting it through the letter box?" said Anya, bristling again. Giles laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, "I suppose they were trying to add some emphasis," he said gently.

"Pity they haven't heard of italics," said Willow brightly. She looked at the stony faces around her. "Never mind, just my little joke." 

__

Buffy carefully detached a grubby piece of paper that had been taped to the axe head with duct tape. She read it, and a puzzled frown wrinkled her forehead. She handed it to Giles. "You're the foreign language expert, apparently."

__

Giles spread the page on the counter for all to read.

__

If you wont yor short ass scuba bak giv us the kitens.

Sined, 'Big' Pussy Contralto, (Vampyr)

The Scoobies stared at one another in wild surmise.

"Short ass scuba?" said Giles, "Why on earth do they think we want a small oxygen tank?"

"And there's a vampire out there called _Big Pussy?"_ said Xander, a smirk beginning to form on his features. "He must get in a hell of a lot of bar fights!"

"And presumably he's won them all," said Spike portentiously. "I'm guessing he's a big mean bloodsucking fiend, all right." 

There was a brief cowed silence - and then a horrified gasp from Buffybot, who having perused the message, had now picked up the axe from the table.

"Oh no!" she cried, gazing at the shiny axe blade in her hand. "This is Jonathan's!" She turned to Buffy, "Well, actually it's yours," she said conscientiously, "but Jonathan was borrowing it. And a Big Pussy has kidnapped him! Poor, poor little Jonathan must gone off to fight the vampires all by his tiny bravehearted little self!" Her lower lip trembled.

__

"Don't worry, Lara, said Tara comfortingly, moving up to put an arm around Buffybot's shoulders. "I'm sure Buffy here - and all the rest of us - will go save Jonathan, just as soon as we have that tracking spell up and running." 

"You betcha!" said Buffy. She looked across at Tara and Buffybot, as they stood together looking mournfully at the shiny little axe, and turned to face her remaining companions as they clustered around the table. "All for one and one for all!" she declared, "the Scoobies do not desert their own!"

"No we darn well don't!" cried Willow.

"Heck, no!" echoed Xander

"Yay us!" cried Dawn

"Abso-bloody-lutely not!" said Spike

"No indeed!" said Giles, "we wouldn't dream of it."

__

Anya raised an eyebrow. Saving this Jonathan fellow was all very well, but she also intended to make sure her shop was looked after. "Well, I don't think we should be sitting chanting and waving beads in the air, while a bunch of demons train a bazooka on us," she said, glaring about at the peppy Slayer gang. "It would be much better if the super heroes among us," she looked hard at Buffy, "got out there and mixed it with them!"

"I am not getting blown up by a bazooka just to protect your precious magic store!" said Buffy. "We need a plan, and some idea of where Jonathan is, before we try anything. So the spell comes first."

Buffybot hurried back to the shelf and began to assemble the ingredients. She'd seen Willow and Tara do this lots of times! 

Dawn looked around at the shop once more. The whole place was so weird. "Well, anyhow, shouldn't there be something in this place that can help us in the fight? Magic charms, or amulets, or weapons, or _something_?" She looked around her disparagingly, "some of this junk has got to be good for something."

"Junk?" said Giles indignantly.

"Junk?!!" said Anya. "this is _inventory_, not junk! My word, I can see you've never worked in Retail, my girl."

"The weapons are in the training room," said Buffybot absently. She looked up for a moment, and beamed at them._ "_I'm_ super good_ attraining!"

Xander followed her pointing finger, and threw open the training room door.

"Holy Moly!" he gasped. 

Buffy, Spike and Dawn crowded into the room behind him, and stopped, transfixed by the collection of axes, knives and swords that were bolted to the wall.

"Now this is more like it!" said Buffy, pleased. She took down a sword, and swished it. 

Spike took reverent hold of a huge double headed axe. "Never mind stakes!" he said.

"Or spikes," muttered Dawn sotto voce.

Spike darted a guilty glance at her, his pleasure in the pretty shiny axe gone. He held on to it nonetheless, and walked away to brood a little.

"Well, it's all cool of course," said Xander after a moment's survey, "but where are the guns? Guns would be good."

At that moment there was a triumphant cry from the shop. Buffy, Xander, and Dawn ran toward it, to find Willow and Tara sitting crosslegged on the table, hand in hand, a glowing green jewel suspended in the air between them. Giles and Anya stood at a safe distance, observing.

"This is so cool," cooed Willow, her eyes glowing. "I like being a witch!" Tara's lips twitched in response, and they grinned at each other.

Buffybot clapped her hands. "You made a hot/cold stone!" she said happily. "Yay!"

Somewhat reluctantly Willow let go of Tara's hand, and reached out to catch the stone as it fell. She held it out to Buffy. "It grows warmer or cooler in your hand the closer or further you get from Jonathan," she said proudly. "If it gets too hot to hold, you're probably standing on him."

"Right!" said Buffy in a firm take-charge voice, "so this is my plan!" She darted a quick glance at Giles to see if he was going to kick up about her running things, since he was her 'Watcher' and all. But he remained silent, simply taking hold of Anya's hand and tilting his head attentively.

A pleased smile spread over Buffy's face. Being in charge was cool!


	11. Chapter 11

Buffybot lurched along the street, sword in hand, and closely followed by Tara, Willow, Xander and Dawn, all travelling in a tightly bunched knot, as the five of them made their way to Revello Drive. She was feeling much better about Jonathan, now Buffy and Spike were on their way to rescue him. And she was thrilled that she had a really important job - guarding the other guys from vampires, until they could work out a counter spell to defeat the evil Sorcerer! It was a pity of course that Anya had insisted that she and Giles stay in the Magic Box. Buffybot would have liked to have everyone under her protection. But still, that trapdoor entrance did need guarding, she saw Anya's point! She gripped her sword more firmly, and stuck out her lower lip - just let an evil creature of the night try anything - she'd show it, by golly!

Tara, who had been gazing at Buffybot out of the corner of her eye, mistook the narrowed eyes and tight lipped expression for discomfort. "So, how did your leg get run over?" she said, gazing with pained sympathy at Buffybot's disconcertingly strange feet as they padded along.

Buffybot turned and gave her a bright smile. "It was Biker Demons! They dismembered me, then they ran me over!"

"Demons dismembered you?" said Tara, feeling upset.

"With chains attached to motorbikes!" said Buffybot. "I doubt they could have done it any other way." She flexed her little bicep proudly, "I'm very strong."

Willow and Tara exchanged a glance. "And then they ran you over with a motorbike?" said Willow, suddenly feeling much less keen on their demon-defying scheme than she had back in the relative safety of the Magic Box.

"Well, bits of me," said Buffybot, striving to be accurate. She looked around at her friends. Willow and Tara were both looking greenish, while Dawn and Xander were gazing at her in morbid fascination. "But it's quite all right," she said, grabbing her left forearm in her right hand and giving it a playful tug. Everyone flinched. Buffybot giggled, and waggled her left hand merrily. "Jonathan put me all back together again, see?" She used her immaculately articulated limb to point to an intersection. "Nearly there!"

Willow glanced curiously around her as they turned the corner into Revello Drive. It looked pretty nice. So, we all live in one house?" she asked. "Except Xander, that is. Buffy, and Dawn, and me and Tara?"

Buffybot grinned at Willow, "And me! Well, at least before I got broken. You used to service me regularly, and you put a really neat cell phone in my head!" She turned to Tara, "and you're teaching me Reflexology, and the History of the Novel!"

Unseen behind her, Dawn shuddered. The Summers household sounded like some nightmare version of a womyn's commune, crossed with Dr Frankenstein's laboratory.

Xander saw the shudder. "Hey, at least you don't live in your parent's basement, and fail to hold down even a minimum wage job," he said bitterly. 

Ahead of them, Buffybot hunched her shoulders. She had _tried_ to put a positive gloss on that part, but Xander's questions had made it kinda hard. She sped up, and took the corner at a rather reckless pace. There was an ugly crunching sound as her hip seized up yet again, and she clattered on to the sidewalk.

"Lara!"

Buffybot blinked and looked upward in the sun. Tara's worried face loomed over her, quickly joined by those of Willow, Xander and Dawn. She managed a bright if rather embarrassed smile. "Just a little mechanical difficulty!" she said. "Um, perhaps you could pick me up?"

The Scoobies looked around them nervously. Any lurking demons, currently holding back out of fear of the Slayer, might just make a rush at them now.

Xander leaned down and wrestled Buffybot to her feet. She was far heavier than she looked, and he felt an ominous ping in his lower back before she got her right foot under her, and bounced upright.

"Time to look for my eighteen piece right angled wrench set," she said brightly, "this way!" And then she tangled her right foot with her inactive left-right foot, and toppled over again.

..........

Buffy and Spike ran lightly down the street, swords and crossbows in hand. There had been a surprising, and frankly slightly disappointing, lack of opposition when they had broken out of the back door of the Magic Box, and performed a stealthy pincer movement on the shop front. But clearly there had been plenty of action previously. Burnt cars littered the street, and several misshapen bodies lay carelessly scattered among dented garbage cans and impromptu weapons like bricks and pieces of railing.

They had given the pre-arranged signal, and Buffybot had led her party out of the shop and away to Revello Drive, to the witches' stash of spells and spell books. Spike meanwhile was backtracking along the distinctive scent trail (ash, blood, and strangely enough, salmon) left by Pussy Contralto when he had first approached the shop. It was leading them north, through a scarred and blackened urban landscape, full of broken windows, burning tyres, and the occasional spray of green, blue and purple demon blood.

As they reached a particularly dark and forbidding alley, Spike gave an exclamation. "There's a fresh human scent here!"

"Is it Jonathan?" cried Buffy excitedly.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "It's male, and he smells tired, sweaty and terrified. But then what human wouldn't if they were running about in this lot?" He waved vaguely at the wreckage around them, then stepped into the alley, sniffing the air. "Aha! This is where the Pussy met the person." He cast about him, and took several confident steps forward, only to stop abruptly, confronted by a closed and bolted door.

Buffy took a deep breath. "Right!" she said confidently. "Let's kick it down and go get Jonathan!"

..........

'Big' Pussy Contralto was mad. 

It had occurred to him, a little late, that his note hadn't actually told Spike and the Slayer chick where to take the kittens, so he'd come back with a new message, this time taped to a crankshaft. (Actually, though he didn't realise it, the crankshaft from the black limo belonging to the Sunnydale Freemasons - which now lay scattered in a hundred pieces, among the bloodied corpses of the many Freemasons who had perished defending it.) He had drawn back his arm to throw, and then noticed a white sheet of A4 paper taped to the closed Magic Box shutters, with _FAO Mr B P Contralto _in large black print at the top. 

He had drawn cautiously closer, squinting in the moonlight, and made out the following message:

__

Dear Mr Contralto 

__

The Slayer and the kitten guy have left. Please go and vandalize some other property elsewhere.

Signed,

Miss A Jenkins

(Proprietor)

With an infuriated growl, Pussy slung the crankshaft into the window of the shop next door, and pounded off down the street, to report to Dr Teeth. There were times he really, really hated the kitten loan enforcement business.

"He's gone!" said Anya in a satisfied tone. "I knew that note would do it." She and Giles were pressed together, perched precariously on a stool, and peering out into the street through a gap in the damaged shutters.

Giles stepped off the stool, and scratched his head. "Amazing, really," he said, perplexed. "Why did Mr Contralto just believe what you said in the note? And why did he obey you, and throw that metal thingie at the shop next door, instead of here? It's uncanny."

Anya gave him a smug smile. "If it's written down it must be right," she said triumphantly, "to the simple minded, anyway. And let's face it, our kitty friend is no genius."

Giles looked at the axe he had rested against the counter (his first defence tactic) and the clear path he had made to the cellar trapdoor (his second, much more realistic defence tactic). He cleared his throat, listening to his racing heart slowly calm in his chest. Anya's hand slipped slyly across the front of his thighs and he felt his heart rapidly pick up pace again.

"So," said Anya, pressing meaningfully against him, "what shall we do while all those hero types save the day?"

Giles coughed. "We're here to guard the trapdoor, are we not? Prevent an assault from the rear ..."

Anya wriggled her ass. "I quite like the idea of an assault from the rear," she said, catching Giles' gaze and ensnaring it effortlessly.

Just for once, the turbo-charged 4 litre Rolls Royce engine that was Rupert Giles' brain seized, coughed and stopped working, as all the blood fuelling it descended rapidly into his tweed trousers. He grabbed Anya around the waist, flung her over his shoulder, and headed for the cellar.

Anya bobbed uncomfortably along, a smug grin stretched right across her face. Gods, she loved a good ravaging!


	12. Chapter 12

****

Chapter 12

Buffybot clumped eagerly down the street. She had a crutch, just like Kerry Weaver! Dawn, proving surprisingly helpful for once, had suggested it, and a quick hunt had thrown up a garden hoe, lying abandoned on a front lawn, and quickly adapted when Tara's bobbly sweater was wrapped around the blade several times to form a pad. Buffybot grinned. This was ever so exciting - she'd never had a crutch before! She made a conscientious note nonetheless to return the hoe to number 72 Revello Drive, just as soon as she had her leg fixed again. She mustn't be responsible for making Dawn a juvenile delinquent hoe-stealer! 

She led her intrepid gang along Revello Drive, and up the path to the Summers House. The door was still unlocked, and she flung it open with a flourish.

"We're home!" she warbled merrily.

.............

Spike and Buffy regarded the closed door behind which poor Jonathan was being held captive.

Buffy took hold of the hot/cold stone. It was uncomfortably hot, and she slipped it quickly back in to her pocket again.

"It's definitely the right place," she said.

"Right!" said Spike confidently, "Well, a door should be no problem to a vampire."

He swung his axe in a great arc, and thudded it into the door with a tremendous crash. The axe head flew off, narrowly missing his head. Spike dropped the handle with a yelp of pain, jammed his hands in his armpits and jumped around, cursing. 

Buffy poked at the door doubtfully with the tip of her sword. There was a small, shiny dent in it at her eye level.

"Apparently, it's a metal door," she said, eyeing the dent with interest. She flicked an experimental fingernail against the door, making a little pinging noise, then looked more closely at the lock. "And I'm guessing there's a security bar on the other side."

"Now she tells me," said Spike bitterly, his fiercely stinging hands still wedged under his armpits. 

"Hmm," said Buffy, examining the wall. "Perhaps we can knock a hole in the brickwork instead."

"How?" said Spike, still sulking. "By headbutting it?" He brightened. "Or maybe we could drive a car into it - knock down the whole thing!" 

Buffy rolled her eyes. "We're trying to save Jonathan - not run him over, or collapse a brick wall on to him. Geez, Spike!"

There was a long pause, as they regarded the firmly closed and bolted door in front of them.

"There's got to be a way," said Buffy.

"I'm sure there is," said Spike.

There was another long pause.

............

Once the front door was shut behind them, Buffybot headed for her toolbox in the basement, clumping down the stairs - step, thump, step, thump. Her friends were safe wandering about the Summers house, looking around the bedrooms (Willow and Tara), exclaiming at the photos on the walls (Dawn), and poking through the fridge (Xander). Now was the perfect time to fix her leg again. 

.............

Spike and Buffy wandered along the dark alley, looking for a makeshift crowbar in among all the debris from the riot. They had broken Spike's axe handle, and blunted all their stakes, and still the door remained stubbornly closed. So far they had found twenty two beers cans, six Doublemeat Palace burger boxes, two garbage can lids, twelve assorted bricks, a car exhaust pipe, several used condoms, a severed tentacle and a headless Barbie doll - none of which seemed likely to provide a breakthrough. Buffy was just bending over to examine another mysterious and insalubrious object, when Spike grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shadows.

"Wha ... mmph!" she said as Spike's hand clasped over her mouth. And then she heard it - footsteps, approaching at speed. She froze, her back pressed against Spike's hard torso, the palm of his hand in her mouth, unbitten. 

.............

Willow and Tara came slowly down the stairs. Buffybot sat on the workbench with her back to them, her left-right leg at an impossible right angle to her torso, her hands busy in front of her. They regarded the back of her shiny blonde head as she bent to her task. 

"Er, Lara," said Tara tentatively. "Sorry to interrupt, but can we ask you a question?" 

Buffybot's head swivelled, and she gave them a big bright grin. "Sure!" she said happily, "I love answering questions! I know all the States, and their capitals, and lots of other really cool stuff about imports and exports." She swung around, leaving her leg behind, and waved the screwdriver in her hand encouragingly.

"Ah, said Willow, blushing slightly and fiddling with the cuff of her jacket. "It's not that kind of question - it's more personal." 

"Is it about going to the bathroom? Xander asked me about that. I never have to go to the bathroom!" said Buffybot happily. "Which is good, because Dawnie uses the bathroom all the time. She's convinced if she doesn't deep cleanse her face every morning and evening she'll get zits!" Buffybot leaned forward confidingly, "She hasn't got any zits, but she does have pimples - but don't tell her so, she'll spend even more time in the bathroom if you do." 

"No, no," said Tara, casting a rather desperate glance at Willow. "Not a personal question about you. Or Dawn. A personal question about us. Me and Willow." She caught Willow's eye and then blushed some more. 

"Ooh!" said Buffybot, thrilled. "I know loads of personal stuff about _both _of you. I know lots and lots and lots of things!" She tapped her screwdriver lightly on her attached leg, as she thought about all the megabytes of information she had tidily arranged in her data files, and cross referenced to infinity. 

"The thing is..." began Tara. 

"..we were wondering," said Willow. 

"If perhaps..." 

"...we're morethanjustgoodfriends," said Willow in a rush. 

............

Buffy and Spike drew back even deeper into the shadows, as Pussy Contralto thundered past, like an angry undead juggernaut. He stopped at the metal door, and withdrew a large key from his shiny suit pocket. Buffy and Spike tiptoed up behind him. Pussy put the key into the lock, turned it, and pushed the door open, just as Buffy and Spike launched themselves simultaneously and hit him in the back.

Pussy, Buffy and Spike all tumbled in a tangle of limbs down the staircase that lay immediately behind the door. Buffy, who had somehow managed to land on top of the two vampires, leapt to her feet, sword in hand, eliciting shrieks of pain as her sharp high heels dug into vampire flesh, and scrambled past them into the cellar beyond, the hot/cold stone in her pocket blazing against her hip.

"Jonathan," she cried, "We're here to save you!" 

.............

Buffybot frowned as she thought about Willow's question. "You're very good friends," she said. "You program me, Willow, and service me regularly." She turned to Tara, "and like I said, you're teaching me reflexology and the history of the novel. And yoga - but I'm having trouble with the breathing exercises." 

"No!" shouted Willow, and then restrained herself. "I mean - obviously you _are _our friend, Laura, no question. Our good friend." Buffybot beamed at her. "But we actually meant, are we more than good friends _with each other? _

"Oh!" Buffybot giggled. "I misunderstood you," she said happily, "due to the inherent inexactitude of the English language. I've got this really cool book on my data file all about gramm..." 

"Are we LOVERS?" shouted Willow. "...ers, ers, ers" echoed around the basement and Willow and Tara both jumped, and grabbed one another's arms. 

............

Buffy looked around her wildly, sword flashing. The room was full of wall to floor fish tanks, all brightly illuminated, and there was the metallic tang of blood in the air. Two figures standing in a small open kitchen, looked up, distracted from their sinister task. There was a shark in shirtsleeves and a bloodstained apron, a cleaver in his hand. A short dark haired boy stood beside him similarly attired, but instead wielding a fish slicer and a kitchen thermometer. A pan bubbled on the stove behind them, and an array of ingredients was set out on the work surface, next to an open fish tank.

"100 degrees - exactly," said the boy nervously, and with a triumphant shout the shark snatched the pan from the hob and poured its contents into an oven dish.

Buffy blinked. "Are you Jonathan Levinson?" she asked the boy cautiously.

The boy nodded. "Yup - hey, easy on the oregano!" he yelled, as the shark lifted a pinch of green leaves in his fin.

"We're here to save you," said Buffy, less enthusiastically this time.

..............

"We seem to share a room," said Tara blushing madly, as she held Willow's hand. 

"That's right!" said Buffybot.

"And there are, ahem, some things in the dresser drawer ..." 

"Toys!" said Buffybot brightly. "Buzzy ones!" 

"Yeah, we noticed the buzziness," said Willow. She looked at Tara shyly. "So we _are _..."

"Yes you are!" said Buffybot, delighted to be giving them the good news. "You have sex in your bedroom all the time, and sometimes in the bathroom. And there was that one time when you both came home with twigs in your hair, and grass stains on your butts, and you said you'd gotten tired and had a nap in the park, but _I_ think ..." 

"We've got the picture!" said Tara quickly, although a little smile was tugging at her lips. 

"You make out on the sofa when you're watching tv too," said Buffybot helpfully, "but not during Sesame Street, because Willow says it's too disturbing when Big Bird is watching." 

Tara snorted. 

Buffybot wrinkled her perfect forehead, "Which I don't really get, but you say," she pointed at Tara, "that..."

Xander popped his head round the door, saving them from any more revelations. He was chewing something, and his mood had noticeably improved. 

"There you gals all are!" he said. Buffybot waved her screwdriver welcomingly. "Come see what Dawn's found," said Xander, "They're way cool." His head disappeared again. 

Willow started up the stairs, and Tara followed her, then turned. "Coming, Lara?" 

"I'll be with you real soon," said Buffybot, picking up her soldering iron in a purposeful manner, and adjusting her left-right leg to the traditional angle. 

And Tara ran up the stairs after her girlfriend to see what cool things Dawn had found.


	13. Chapter 13

****

Chapter 13 

"Who's we?" said Jonathan, sparing Buffy an absent glance as he carefully measured out olive oil into a dessert spoon.

Buffy turned to see what had happened to Spike - and was knocked flying as he and Pussy rolled into the room, their hands about one another's throats, a blur of vampiric violence. Her head banged into a fishtank with a loud thud.

"Ow!" she cried. 

Dr Teeth looked up, oregano in fin. "Hey, cutie - mind the fish tanks!" he yelled. 

"Ow, ow," cried Spike, as he rolled about the cellar floor, locked in a desperate embrace with the larger vampire, "the big cheat just _gouged me in the eye!_ No fair!"

Buffy dragged herself to her feet, the world spinning around her, just as Pussy threw Spike bodily across the room, where he landed on the shark's kitchen work surface, right on top of the butter dish.

"Don't squash the butter," yelled Jonathan. "We need it!"

Buffy punched Pussy hard in the face, with a lightning fast right-left combination, and stuck her sword neatly right through him. But as she tried to lever it out again, he leaned down, and clouted her with a huge vampire fist. She flew across the room, and crashed into another tank.

"Mind the goddammed fish tanks, you bozos!" shouted the shark, "how many times do I have to say?"

"You fight like a girl! Both of ya!" shouted Pussy derisively, standing tall in the middle of the room with Buffy's sword sticking out of his chest. He reached down and drew the sword half way out, then went down again as Spike tackled him from behind, a wooden spoon clasped in his hand.

Buffy prised herself away from the now cracked glass tank, as Spike tossed her the wooden spoon. A moment later he disappeared as Pussy rolled over, squashing him beneath his superior bulk. There was an ominous cracking sound as Buffy's sword was caught between two hard vampire chests. 

"My sword!" shouted Buffy, outraged. She snapped the wooden spoon in two with a practised gesture, just as Spike propelled his opponent backwards towards the kitchen range. Buffy threw the broken spoon like a dagger, hitting Pussy squarely in the chest as he flew backwards. Vampire dust pattered down over the ingredients on the work surface, and sprinkled the open fish tank beside it. The remaining salmon there rose eagerly to the surface.

"Got him!" Buffy cried.

"What a team!" said Spike.

They grinned at each other like idiots.

Dr Teeth gave a howl of pain. "My recipe!" he cried.

"Ruined!" said Jonathan bitterly, ripping off his apron, throwing it to the floor, and stamping on it. 

...............

Giles and Anya meanwhile were walking along Revello Drive, Giles striding in the lead, a sword in his hand, and Anya trailing sulkily beside him, absently re-buttoning her blouse, while trying to keep a crossbow tucked under one arm, and the Magic Box till drawer under the other. 

"I still don't see," she said in tone of one who said the same thing many times before, "why we couldn't stay and make out, I mean hang out, in the Magic Box."

"Well, mainly," said Giles, between clenched teeth, "because of the imminent danger of death should we have done so."

"We're meant to be guarding the trapdoor, remember?" said Anya.

Giles closed his eyes, for a moment, praying for patience. "Yes, well, that proved to be rather more difficult than we expected, didn't it, darling?"

His mind went back to the scene in the Magic Box basement. His reason blinded by passion, he had carried Anya to the basement and, only slightly out of breath, had proceeded to remove her blouse and skirt, and his own jacket and trousers. Just as his hand had gone to remove Anya's camiknickers, six tentacled demons had leapt through the trapdoor entrance, covered in filth and stinking like smouldering rubber tyres. He had jumped to his feet to defend his lady - and been trampled underfoot in a stampede of tentacles and demon slime, as the creatures had made a beeline for the Magic Box front door, smashed it from its hinges and then run down the street, bellowing threats in Fyarl. 

Anya made a dismissive noise. "Really, Rupey, we only needed to find the right spell in one of those magic books, and block the trapdoor entrance. Then we could have turned our attention to more enjoyable things."

Giles hunched his shoulders. Clearly Anya had forgotten just what sort of chaos they had caused the last time they had read from the books. He wondered, not for the first time, just what his and Anya's domestic life must be like.

"And now the door is smashed, there could be looters!" said Anya, her imagination filled with ugly scenes of Sunnydalers with pantyhose pulled over their heads, rushing through the shop and emptying it of unicorn statues, dried newt eyes, and Tarot packs. 

"I rather think the presence of an electrical goods store - with a smashed window - in the same street, may prove a superior attraction," muttered Giles. He sped up as, guided by Buffybot's admirably clear instructions, they approached the front door of the Summers house.

Behind him, Anya frowned, unconvinced. Clearly there was no arguing with him - but how anyone might prefer a microwave or a mini fridge to a Yeti hair fetish was beyond her. In her view, pillage was almost inevitable. She regarded Giles' back sulkily, as he pressed the bell of the front door. How on earth did she put up with him?

.............

Dr Teeth stared aghast at the ash-spattered remains of recipe no. 828 for a moment more, and then with a howl of rage he ran towards Buffy and Spike, cleaver upraised.

Spike ducked sinuously, and as the cleaver whistled past, he grabbed Dr Teeth by his apron strings, and smacked him head first through the glass wall of the nearest fish tank. Water poured in a torrent over the unconscious demon loan shark, until the sole occupant swirled out of the tank, bumped Dr Teeth between the eyes, and then flopped onto the floor.

Buffy leant down and picked up the large, uncannily fat salmon. It gazed glassily up at her, flapping feebly in her hands.

"Ugh!" she said.

"Ooh!" said Spike at the same moment. He grabbed the salmon from her and bit its head off.

"Gross!" said Buffy.

"Yuck!" said Jonathan.

"'Ish jusht sushi," said Spike indistinctly, through a mouthful of salmon.

Buffy shuddered, and strode across the basement to grab Jonathan. "Right, you wannabe Emeril," she said, "consider yourself rescued." She looked around the crazy fish-filled basement with disfavour. "Now let's get moving, before we get attacked by a troupe of angry lobster sous chefs."


	14. Chapter 14

****

Chapter 14

Giles stepped up to the door of the Summers house, and rang the bell, pressing a hand to the small of his back, and repressing a groan. All the bruises inflicted on him by the herd of stampeding Fyarl demons were starting to take their toll.

After a moment the door swung open. Dawn stood on the threshold. "Giles! Anna! Hi!" She took in Giles' trampled and slime spattered appearance, and did a double take. "Oh wow! I guess the fighting got pretty intense back at the old Match Box, huh?"

"That's _Magic_ Box, said Anya, "and it's Anya, with a 'y', _Umad."_ She stamped past Dawn into the hallway.

Dawn narrowed her eyes and stared after her. They just weren't going to let that 'Umad' thing drop were they? Suddenly a terrible smell assailed her nostrils, and she turned her head to find Giles standing beside her in the hallway. "Oof!" she said, taking a step backwards. "You sure do stink."

"And it's very nice to see you again too, Dawn. Thank you," said Giles, limping past her.

"There's a real nice bathroom upstairs," called Dawn after him, "in case you want to wash any of that slime off, or anything."

Giles hunched his shoulders. "Very kind of you to mention it," he said in a stifled tone. "I'll look into it in a little while, shall I? _After_ we've established where we are in our battle with the Sorcerer." He set off towards the living room.

"If you say so," said Dawn. She held her nose behind his retreating back, blinked her watering eyes, and then followed him at a respectful distance.

"Eeeeeee!!!" 

A shrill female scream rose from the room ahead of them. Giles and Dawn broke into a run.

.............

"Well, I don't see why you're so upset," said Spike, as he tailed along behind Buffy.

Buffy marched along the road, one hand firmly clasped round the arm of an unhappy and silent Jonathan, the other holding a string shopping bag. Now they were in Jonathan's presence the hot/cold stone was unremittingly burning hot, and she'd been forced to put it in a little ovenproof dish (after she'd emptied it of fresh basil) and carry it in the only non-plastic bag she could find. She wished she'd asked Willow or Tara how to switch the stupid thing off.

"It was gross," she said. "Blood on your chin, and all those little bones crunching in your teeth."

"I was hungry!" said Spike, "Besides, sea otters eat raw salmon, and I bet you think _they're_ cute."

"I do not! Well, yes I do," Buffy corrected herself, "but you are not an otter." She frowned. She wasn't entirely sure if sea otters _did_ eat salmon, but if they did, it would be cute - not like something out a horror movie. Spike had gone through the salmon like a chainsaw through a piece of plywood. She shuddered. It was just ... yucky.

............

Giles and Dawn tumbled through the door of the living room, panting. A puzzling scene met their eyes.

Anya stood screaming beside a squashed cardboard box, out of which had spilled a newspaper, an overturned water dish and several half chewed carrots. A large white lop-eared rabbit was sitting on the arm of the sofa, peacefully chewing a piece of straw, while Willow, Tara and Xander darted around the room trying to catch a bewildering array of little red and blue striped bunnies.

"What happened?" gasped Dawn.

Xander turned, a little blue and red rabbit pressed to his chest. "We'd just collected them all up," he said, exasperated, "when Anya came rushing in here and stepped on the box, and started screaming." He grabbed at his rabbit, as it made a panicked attempt to scramble over his shoulder and take a leap to freedom. 

"And now they're scared to death," said Willow, as she tried to fish under the bookcase for an escapee that was gazing out at her with panicked glassy rabbit eyes.

"Rupey! I fell over," wailed Anya, "into a sea of bunnies. It's my worst nightmare, come to life. They stepped on me with their filthy little rodent feet, and breathed on me with their foul carrot-laden breath. Who wouldn't start screaming?"

The second living room door crashed open, hitting Xander in the back. He fell to his knees, dropping his rabbit, as Buffybot flew through the doorway, sword twirling above her head. Xander jumped to his feet - and then threw himself desperately backwards as the madly whirring sword flew past his nose. 

"Die! Evil creatures of the...." Buffybot paused, taking in the scene. "Ooh!" she cried happily, "it's Willow's sneakers!"

Xander's rabbit bounded past her, making a mad dash for the space under the sofa. Tara threw herself forward in a diving tackle, and grabbed the panicked bunny. It kicked her in the face, with both back feet, and she let go with a muffled cry. The rabbit bounded off, weaving between the Scoobies' feet with impressive rabbit agility but very little sign of a plan. Anya began to scream again.

Buffybot put down her sword and, in a blur of motion, scooped up the rabbit as it bounded past. Dawn silently held out the cardboard box, and the rabbit was popped inside.

"You poor baby!" cried Willow, kneeling down beside Tara and examining her scratches.

"Anya!" shouted Xander. "If you could just stop screaming they might calm down enough for us to catch them." He was back on his hands and knees, trying to extract the rabbit under the bookcase. Dawn was silently stalking towards the tv, where a little rabbit face had just popped up from behind the video recorder, while Buffybot was eagerly lifting cushions, and peering behind curtains.

Anya's screams ended on a little hiccup, as Giles patted her wearily on the back. "Bunnies are evil," she said with a shudder. "And they _stink_," she added wrinkling her nose. She turned accusingly to Giles. "Why on earth did you send them here, instead of into another dimension?"

"I don't think that smell can be the bunnies," said Tara. "Unless it's some magic or demony thing. None of my pet bunnies ever smelled like that." She was sitting on the sofa, holding onto Willow with one hand, and stroking the white lop-eared rabbit, which had remained calm through all the drama, with the other. 

Anya's eyes narrowed as she heard Tara confess to a past in rabbit keeping.

"You're right, Tara!" said Buffybot eagerly. "The bad smell _is_ Giles. The bunnies only smell of bunny!" She brandished two more little rabbits triumphantly, and put them in the cardboard box, which was Dawn had put down on the coffee table.

Giles closed his eyes for a moment. "Some of us have been fighting demons," he said, brushing ineffectually at the congealed slime on his cuffs. "It's really not surprising we might have picked up a little ... contamination."

"Ooh!" said the Buffybot, straightening up from her rabbit hunt, her eyes wide with admiration. "Did you kill lots and lots of them?" She made a demonstrative swishing gesture, her eyes alight at the notion of demon slaughter.

"Well, not as s..." began Giles.

"Aargh!" cried Anya, agony in her voice. "Look!" 

Everyone turned, startled, and followed the direction of Anya's dramatically pointing finger. There was a long, tension filled, pause.

"Er, what exactly are we looking at?" asked Xander cautiously. "It seems to be your legs. Which are very nice," he added hastily, in case Anya started screaming again.

"Hairs!!!" yelled Anya. "Bunny hairs. I have filthy rabid rodent hairs on my skirt!" 

The silence became less tense, and more hostile, as everyone regarded their own disshevelled and rabbit hair strewn selves, and Anya's near pristine appearance. 

"Ah, yes," said Giles at length. "I think I do see a couple, dear."

He stepped forward and plucked a couple of red hairs from Anya's skirt and held them out in front of him. Anya shuddered back, as though he were holding a scorpion.

"Got it!" 

Dawn held up a bunny triumphantly, then put it gently into the box. "Only two more to go!" She looked eagerly around the room, her competitive rabbit hunting instincts aroused. 

Buffybot skipped over and stared into the box admiringly. "They're real cute little sneaker bunnies aren't they?" Suddenly her face dropped as she remembered just whose sneaker had perished that the bunnies might live. She turned to Willow sorrowfully. "_Your_ sneakers, Willow. I'm real sorry I wore your sneakers without permission, and that I let them be turned into bunnies." She looked down at her two right feet, embarrassed. "It was real careless of me."

"The bunnies are way cuter than any pair of sneakers," said Tara, smoothing the lop eared rabbit's ears.

"Which I don't remember owning anyway," said Willow, gazing adoringly at her bunny stroking girlfriend.

Xander emerged from under the bookcase, stripy rabbit in hand. "And I have to admit, stripy rabbits are pretty cool."

They all smiled at Buffybot, and she sent a big relieved grin zinging right back at them.

"Although, I would like to know exactly how you made bunnies out of Willow's sneakers, Lara," said Tara, rather reluctantly getting off the sofa, and adding the lop-eared rabbit to the box. "It seems like a kind of hard thing to do."

"Oh, I didn't do it," said Buffybot happily. She pointed at Anya, who was still going over her clothes inch by fanatical inch, looking for rabbit hairs. 

"She did!"

**__**

End Chapter


	15. Chapter 15

****

Chapter 15

Buffybot tilted her head. She'd heard something out in the yard. 

After explaining to the Scoobies how she came to be wearing Willow's right sneakers, she'd yielded the floor to Anya and Giles, who had given a passionate, and wildly divergent, account of their foray into transformational magic. The whole living room was currently full of excited babble, as witches and civilians alike thrilled to the idea of magic that could simply be read off the page of a book. 

Buffybot quietly picked up her sword, and tiptoed to the doorway. The front door opened, and the sounds of a Slayer and a Vampire arguing in the hall could be heard. Buffybot smiled, put down the sword, and strained her electronic ears. Buffy and Spike seemed to be having an animated difference of opinion about the eating habits of the sea otter. Ooh! Buffybot rushed out of the doorway, eager to help. She knew lots about sea otters! It was all in her Encyclopaedia! 

"... salmon, sea urchins, whatever," said Spike tetchily, "My point is ...." He staggered backward as Buffybot flew past him, and latched on to Jonathan.

"Jonathan! You're safe!" Buffybot grabbed Jonathan in an enthusiastic embrace, lifting him off the ground. Jonathan groaned as his ribs were squeezed almost to their popping point.

Buffybot put him down and grinned at Buffy. "You saved poor brave little Jonathan!" she said enthusiastically, "you're so cool!" She stepped forward, her arms open for a hug, and Buffy stepped backward quickly.

"Got a very hot stone here," she said, waving her string bag in the air. "We'll just have to pass on the hug-age this time."

Buffybot glowed. Buffy was always thinking of others! She turned expectantly to Spike, but he had his arms folded defensively across his chest, and a pout on his face. Perhaps he had lost the salmon argument? She turned back to Jonathan instead, and hugged him again. She was touched to see that there were tears welling in his eyes.

.............

Buffybot flung open the living room door with a crash, causing a terrified girly squeak to emanate from at least one person in the room.

"Buffy and Spike have saved Jonathan!" she said proudly.

There was a collective 'ooh!' from the assembled Scoobies as Buffy and Spike entered the room behind her, towing the reluctant Jonathan with them.

"Hey! Our hot/cold stone worked," said Willow, pleased.

Buffy silently held out the string bag, and Willow and Tara took it from her and bent over it, excited. 

"What happened to Mr Contralto?" asked Giles, looking his returned companions over for signs of wear. Buffy appeared a little dirtied, but unharmed, while Spike was sporting a spectacular black eye. 

"He's feeding the fishes," said Buffy, a pleased smile playing over her lips as she recalled her excellent aim with the wooden spoon.

"And the demon loan shark guy?" asked Xander.

Spike's chest puffed out. "He's sleeping with the fishes," he said proudly.

"Go team!" said Xander enthusiastically.

Dawn was looking at the mysterious Jonathan. He sure was little, as Lara had said, and he was holding his ribs as though they hurt. "Was the shark whoosit real mean to you?" she asked him sympathetically.

"Pressed him into service as a salmon chef," said Spike. "Not exactly a terrible trial by torture." He looked suspiciously at Jonathan. "And he didn't seem that happy to be rescued, frankly."

"We'd got to a very crucial stage with the _jus_, that's all," muttered Jonathan, trying to pull his shirt sleeve away from Spike's iron grip.

Spike raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"And he's been really reluctant to talk all the way here," said Buffy, casting an equally suspicious glance at Jonathan. "I'm thinking he may not wanting to tell us all he knows - about this spell, and about just what is going on around here."

"I don't know anything about any spell!" gasped Jonathan, "Honest! This whole place has just gone crazy as far as I'm concerned."

"Hmm!" Anya's eyes narrowed. "I think he's lying - let's torture him to get the truth!" 

Jonathan followed her gaze as it fell upon the axe that lay on the coffee table. He shrank back, as far as Spike's grip would allow him. At this awkward moment, a red and blue striped bunny darted out from beneath an armchair and ran over Jonathan's foot. He screamed.

"Catch it!" yelled Xander, as it ran towards the sofa.

"Don't dive again, sweetie!" cried Willow to Tara, as the rabbit bounded past them, and then dropped the string bag, as she made her own grab for the bunny.

"Eeeee!" screamed Anya, as the rabbit veered in her direction.

Buffybot pounced, and came up with the rabbit dangling by the scruff of its neck. She put out a tender hand to support its little rabbit bottom, and it kicked her vigorously. She giggled, and held it up to Jonathan. "It's only a cute little bunny!" she said happily. "Anya made them out of Willow's sneakers."

Jonathan blinked, trying to make sense of that, and then sneezed explosively. "Allergic!" he said, frantically trying to twist in Spike's grasp, away from the rabbit. "I'b allergic do babbits!"

"Aha!" Anya exclaimed triumphantly, "we can rub the bunny up and down on him until he breaks!"

Buffybot had quickly taken the rabbit away from under Jonathan's watering nose, and now she looked at Anya, alarmed. "Jonathan's my friend!" she said indignantly. "He repaired me. We mustn't rub a bunny on him if he doesn't want us to!"

"Nobody is going to rub a .... I mean, nobody is going to torture Jonathan," said Giles firmly. Anya scowled. He turned to Jonathan, who was sneezing convulsively. "But we do have some questions to ask you."

"Iz dere any Zyrtec in der house?" said Jonathan, "Ged me a Xirax, and I'll tell you eberything I know." Dawn sprang up and thundered up the stairs to hunt in the bathroom. 

Spike, meanwhile, had strolled over to look at the rabbit in Buffybot's arms. "Someone been busy with a spray can, then?" he asked, looking down at the blue and red stripes with some interest.

"Don't let Spike get anywhere near it, Lara," said Buffy. "He'll only bite its head off." Buffybot moved the rabbit backward out of range, alarmed, as Spike turned to scowl at Buffy.

"Or gamble it away in a poker game," said Xander. Spike scowled at him in turn.

"I thought vampires ate people?" asked Buffybot, confused. Spike bared his teeth at her, and she scurried quickly back to the cardboard box on the coffee table, and slipped the rabbit inside, away from Spike's hungry eyes.

Dawn came back into the room, Xirax in hand. She stared. "Why is the carpet on fire?" she asked. 

Everyone turned. Unnoticed in all the excitement, the string bag containing the hot/cold stone had combusted and set a ring of carpet alight in the process. In the centre of the spreading blaze the stone glowed like a red eye from hell. Xander ran over and stamped on the flames, then danced back, frantically trying to rip his burning sneaker off. 

"Ow, ow! Water needed!" Buffybot and Giles both ran for the kitchen.

"How do you switch that darned thing off?" cried Buffy petulantly, pointing to the stone.

"Ah," said Willow, "now that's a very good question." She looked hopefully at Buffybot's retreating back.

"Extingue!" shouted Tara, pointing at the blaze. There was a sudden pocket of darkness above the flames, a little whump, and the stone went dark.

Buffybot ran into the room, with a washing up bowl full of water in her hands, and threw it over the burning carpet. In a moment there was only an acrid smell of burnt carpet fibres, and a small pall of smoke. 

Giles appeared behind her, hot and panting, a water-filled casserole pot in his arms. He looked at the now quenched blaze, sighed, and put the casserole dish down. Anya patted him on the back.

Tara stepped cautiously forward, and picked up the now dark stone. "I didn't know I knew how to do that," she said. She looked at Willow, excited. "Maybe the Sorcerer's spell is getting weaker!"

Buffy took the stone from Tara's hand, and gave a decisive nod. "Right," she said, "well, we know how to find the sorcerer, don't we?" She held up the stone. "Let's crank up another hot/cold spell and get on his trail!"


	16. Chapter 16

****

Chapter 16

Giles regarded Jonathan with a great deal of disfavour. The boy was clearly lying about something, but without resorting to the ugly bunny rubbing tactics suggested by Anya, it was beyond him to establish just what. Jonathan was certainly happy to babble about the Scoobies' history at tedious length, anyway. Buffy, who had started the questioning awash with suspicion, had been swelling visibly as he recounted her exploits as the Chosen One, while Spike, who had been eloquently sardonic at first, had grown ever more silent and gloomy as evidence of his past wickedness was brought to light. As for himself, Giles wasn't surprised to discover that he was the voice of reason among the company, and jolly well-read into the bargain. His relationship with Anya seemed to have come as a surprise to the lad, but then, increasingly he could see reasons why he might have wanted to keep that little peccadillo to himself. He glanced across from the shivering Jonathan to his fiancée, who was not-so-absently running a soft cloth over the head of her small axe, and whistling some kind of tune in what appeared to be Swedish. Giles closed his eyes briefly. He wondered if he was in danger of marrying in haste and repenting at leisure?

Across the room, Willow and Tara were engaged in a long serious conversation about just how to cast a hot/cold spell to search for someone whose name, appearance, and even species, were unknown. Books had been pulled from the shelves, a laptop fetched from Willow's bedroom, and little bags of herbs strewn across the table. Elsewhere, in the basement, came the sounds of hammering as Xander and the Buffybot, somewhat sulkily assisted by Dawn, knocked together a rabbit hutch out of a packing case and assorted spare lumber.

"Ah ha!" Willow was pointing an excited finger at a line in the large ominous book that lay in her lap. "What we need here is a spell-tracking spell, instead of a person-tracking spell! Find the source of the forgetting spell and we have our Villain! Tara and I can cast this easily, since we already have a stone, and bags of talent!" She leant over and kissed Tara enthusiastically.

Anya looked up. "Is the kissing part of the spell?" she asked, looking interested, "because I'm an excellent kisser - aren't I, Rupey darling?" She looked over at Buffy and Spike , "And Giles isn't bad either. I bet we could generate some energy for you!"

"It isn't part of the spell, no," said Willow, pulling away reluctantly, and gazing into Tara's eyes. "It's just real nice to do." The witches locked lips again.

"Guys," Buffy cleared her throat. "let's can the floorshow for now, shall we? And get with the wizard hunting program." She gripped her new sword (commandeered from Giles) and looked sternly at Willow and Tara, who blushed, and scrambled upright.

Buffy looked at Spike. He was evil of course, and he had a lousy taste in suits, _and_ he babbled annoyingly when he was in a good mood - but at least he had _focus,_ unlike some other people she could think of. Right now, for instance, he had narrowed his eyes, and was looking menacingly into the distance, no doubt planning his moves for when Evil Magic Guy was in range. She looked around at the rest of her crew. They were, respectively, cowering in an armchair wiping nervous sweat from their lip (Jonathan), filing fingernails with an axe blade (Anya), gazing morbidly at what looked like a plane ticket (Giles), and trying to measure herbs into a bowl while holding hands under the table and giggling (Willow and Tara). From the basement came the sound of hammering, a giggle, and a muffled curse. Buffy made a little 'tchah' noise of annoyance. How did she work in these conditions? 

...........

Buffybot bounced up the stairs, lurching a bit as her left-right leg struggled to keep pace with her more athletic right-right leg. She and Xander had made a beautiful hutch for the bunnies, then he and Dawn had gone back upstairs while she stayed behind to push bits of carrots into the through the mesh and watch her furry little friends nibble away at them. But now the carrots were gone, and it was time to get on with some serious Slaying! Buffybot nodded to herself. She had exciting plans - and just as soon as they cut off that Evil Sorcerer's head, and her friends got their memories back, she would be getting right on with her scheme for a bunny-friendly loft extension.

She burst into the living room and looked about her eagerly. The hot/cold stone lay in Giles' oven proof casserole dish on the coffee table. Tara sat before it, sprinkling herbs, while Willow stood a few feet away, leaning against the bookshelf and reading a verse in Latin, the other Scoobies gathered in a loose circle around her. Each person was newly armed and equipped from the weapons chest Buffybot had shown them, with axes and swords slung from shoulders, and stakes in pockets. Buffybot ran to pick up her own sword, and joined her friends.

Willow closed the book with a snap, and Tara flung a last herb. "Commence!" she cried, clicking her fingers. And as they watched the stone began to glow with a dull green light.

Spike reached forward a tentative finger to touch the stone, and drew it back with preternatural speed, and a yelp of pain. "The bloody thing's red hot!" he cried, "Or green hot anyway." He and Buffy looked at each other, alarmed.

"The stone didn't get hot last time until we were just a few yards from Jonathan," said Buffy.

"The Sorcerer's here!" said Willow, "very near to us." Everyone jumped, and looked around them suspiciously. 

"Guard the perimeter!" cried Buffy, and stepped forward to face the first living room door. Spike hurried to face the second door, and Buffybot took up guard by the window, swishing her sword eagerly. Xander stood facing the fourth, blank, wall, feeling a little foolish.

"He could be watching us," said Jonathan, clutching Anya's shiny little throwing axe.

"Spying," said Dawn, staring around, a long pikestaff quivering in her hand.

"Awaiting his moment," said Anya, loading a bolt into a crossbow, "before he decides to pounce!"

"For the stone to be this hot," said Tara, holding her hand out above the now blazing rock, "we ought to be able to see him. Only, of course," she added, "we have all these walls in the way." 

They all looked around them. Was the Evil Villain creeping through the hall - or maybe outside, standing in a flower bed? Suddenly the walls, instead of being comforting, seemed confining, and dangerous. They shuffled closer together, unconsciously.

"Sneaky bugger, too," said Spike, not slackening his guard, "I can't hear him or smell him - and my senses are amazing. I smelled the nervous sweat on Jonny boy here from nearly half a mile away!" 

Jonathan shifted uncomfortably - did Spike have to mention his sweat in front of everyone? He looked around him, wondering if the Sorcerer wanted to kill _everyone_, or maybe just the Slayer? He edged slowly away from Buffy, just in case she was going to be the target of any nasty magical attack.

"He must be using another spell," said Giles slowly, "to conceal himself. Although why he hasn't attacked us already ..." His eyes made a careful sweep of the room.

Willow jumped to her feet. "Well, we'll do a counter-counter-spell to unmask him!" She hesitated, and looked over at Tara, who had just raised her brows enquiringly. "Well, at least we'll do that once we've looked one up." She took a step forward, determined.

"It's getting brighter!" yelled Dawn. The group turned involuntarily for a second - the stone was now almost unbearably bright, washing the whole room in acid green. 

Buffy turned back to the door she was guarding, her eyes straining for any flicker of movement. "Still nothing?" she asked Spike.

He shook his head, eyes _and_ nostrils straining, "Not a damn thing," he said, frustrated. "It's as if there were no one and nothing else here at all."

Buffybot clutched her sword more tightly, and narrowed her eyes. This Super Villain was a clever one!

Willow paused for a moment, transfixed by the glowing stone, took another step forward, and then froze as the stone shone brighter - almost impossibly bright. "He's getting closer," cried Tara, averting her eyes from the glare, and grabbing Willow's hand. "He must be almost on top of us!"

"On top of us?" yelled Xander. He stepped backwards hurriedly, and pointed upwards. "Oh my God, it's like Aliens! He's in the ceiling! Everyone's eyes were drawn morbidly upwards. 

"The lampshade moved," screamed Jonathan.

Giles spoke between clenched teeth. "The lampshade is moving, because of the heat from the stone is creating thermal ..."

Anya loosed off a crossbow bolt, which struck the light fitting and clattered down, nearly hitting Tara.

"Darling!" cried Willow, grabbing Tara in her arms, and sinking on to the sofa.

"Look at the stone now!" shrieked Dawn. Everyone stared. Little lightning flares were flickering across the stone's surface, and spitting upwards into the air. Willow bent over the oven dish, shading her eyes. The stone began to move. Crack! The casserole dish split and the stone rolled across the table. Willow grabbed it reflexively as it fell - and it exploded in her hand, in a shower of ash and phosphorescence.

There was a long, long silence. Willow sat frozen on the sofa, coated in green dust from head to foot, a surprised expression on her face.

"Golly, said the Buffybot, "well I for one certainly wasn't expecting that! How _exciting!_"


	17. Chapter 17

****

Chapter 17

"What happened?" asked Xander, "Didn't it work?"

Willow blinked, her eyelashes powdered with green rock. After a moment, Tara let go of Willow's hand and rose to her feet, brushing green flecks from herself.

"I'm afraid it did work," said Giles heavily.

"You!" cried Anya, pointing at Willow, "You set the spell! You're the Evil Sorcerer!"

"Then why ....?" said Spike. And then a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh, I get it now!"

"More than I do," muttered Buffy, staring at Willow.

"Oooh!" Everyone looked over at the Buffybot, who was bouncing up and down on the spot with excitement. "I get it too, I get it too!" she said.

"Score one for our dippy little tin soldier," said Spike. He looked across at Willow, "How bloody inept does an Evil Sorcerer - or Sorceress," - Spike bowed ironically - "have to be, to cast a forgetting spell and catch herself in it, as well!"

"Hee, hee, hee!" said Buffybot. "It's really very funny, when you think about it!"

"Hilarious," muttered Giles, picking at the dried demon goo that still bespattered his jacket.

"Right, well it's obvious what to do next," said Anya confidently. "We cut off her head, and the spell is broken." She lifted her shiny axe from the table, and stared at Willow critically, "Actually we should probably burn her corpse to ashes and douse them in holy water too, just to be on the safe side. _And_ sacrifice a goat." 

Buffybot's eyes went round, and she took a step between Anya and Willow.

"There's no need for anything quite so ... drastic," said Giles. "Willow here just needs to break the spell ..."

"Except," said Tara, speaking quietly and distinctly. "We can't trust her to do that, can we? Given what's she done already." She looked hard at Willow, "And don't you all wonder what it is that she wanted us to forget?"

Buffy moved closer to the guilty witch, sword drawn, and stared down at her in an unfriendly fashion. "That's a very good question, Tara."

"Yeah," said Spike, coming up to stand by Buffy, twirling his stake in his hand, "and don't forget she could have got us all killed while we were milling around like confused sheep earlier."

Anya sighed with exasperation, "Well _of course _we can't trust her," she said, "She's probably some kind of evil demon or something!"

"Willow's really very nice," offered Buffybot tentatively. "Isn't she, Jonathan?" Jonathan looked up and shrugged, half heartedly. 

"She doesn't look very evil," said Dawn doubtfully. And indeed Willow, who was blushing and twisting her hands in her lap, looked a lot more like a naughty schoolgirl than an Evil Villain.

"I don't know if she's evil or not," said Tara. Willow's blush deepened to a dusky red. Tara drew a breath, "but, parts of my memory are coming back." She looked around the room at the puzzled and angry and anxious faces around her. "More than for any of you, I think. And this book is mine." Tara pulled out a large volume from the bookshelf and turned. "I am going to use it to banish magic from this house," she said calmly, "by Earth Magic, so there may be a tiny earthquake - nothing to worry about." 

"Gosh!" said the Buffybot, impressed. 

"Nothing to worry about?" said Xander, staring at the walls around them. "You're making an earthquake, and we're all in a house that could crash down on our heads, and there's nothing to worry about?"

"Just a little one," said Tara. She glanced over at Buffy and Dawn. "But you may want to move the ornaments." She looked down at Willow, who was still examining her own feet. "Let's find out what just what your terrible secret is, shall we?" she said.

..............

Buffybot stood in the basement. Tara's spell had indeed caused an earthquake - a little physical one, just a rumbling underfoot, but also a huge angry emotional one. And then - and then everyone was really unhappy. Buffy was angry with Giles, and Spike was angry with Buffy, and Anya was angry with Xander for some reason, though Buffybot couldn't quite work out why. And now Tara was leaving, and that made Dawn angry with Tara. And, of course, absolutely everyone was angry with Willow. 

As the voices had grown louder, Buffybot had spotted Jonathan creeping out of the front door - and for a moment she had been sorely tempted to join him - she was sure he would have liked the company! But still, he was moving very fast, and she didn't want to slow him down, with her silly leg. She didn't want to stay in the living room, though. All in all, Buffybot thought she preferred the basement right now.

Xander's beautiful rabbit hutch sat on the workbench in front of her, and, spotting a half chewed carrot that had fallen through the bars on to the floor, she scooped it up, and stepped up to peer through the mesh. No bunnies were visible in the living quarters of the hutch, so opened the door to the sleeping quarters and peered inside. Then she sighed a big sigh, put down her carrot, reached in her hand, and drew out one white, and one red and blue striped sneaker. No sneaker bunnies. No magic.

She felt very sad.

There was a footstep on the stairs, and she looked up. It was Tara.

"Oh." Tara hesitated. "I was looking for a packing case."

Buffybot looked at the hutch. "I guess you could have this, Tara. The bunnies are gone."

Tara looked at the spanking new rabbit hutch, and the sneakers dangling from Buffybot's fingers. "Oh dear. I'm sorry, Lara - but they weren't real you know - just made of fairy dust, and illusion, and a little bit of life borrowed from somewhere."

"My name's Buffybot," said Buffybot sadly. "I only pretended it was Lara - that wasn't real either."

"Your name is what you want it to be. Look," Tara fumbled in her pocket and handed over two crumpled $10 bills. "Buy yourself some real bunnies, _Lara_," she said. "or guinea pigs, maybe - they're friendlier." She managed a little grin, "But please get two the same sex, huh? This basement could be overrun real fast." And after poking about half-heartedly in the corner of the room for a box, Tara left.

Buffybot looked after her, trembling with shock. $20!!! She'd never had $20 before - or any dollars! Only coins for the phone, in case she got arrested again! $20!!! She was rich! She could buy rabbits _and _guinea pigs! She consulted her internal clock - it was still too early for the pet store to be open, but she intended to be standing on the doorstep all bright and ready with her $20 right on the stroke of 10.00am - Yessir! Meanwhile she had 102 pages of information about the biology, evolution, and behaviour of _Oryclolagus cuniculus _(bunnies) and _Cavia porcellus_ (piggies) in her Encyclopaedia! 

She pulled herself up on the workbench beside her rabbit hutch and settled down for some serious reading.

**__**

The End


End file.
